


Unguided Tendencies

by greenleafin



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cid Sophias, Cindy Aurum - Freeform, Double Penetration, Final Fantasy XV Spoilers, Fluff and Smut, Hurt Prompto Argentum, Hurt/Comfort, Ignis Scientia - Freeform, Light Angst, Love, M/M, Minor Prompto Argentum/Noctis Lucis Caelum, Multi, Oral Sex, Physical hurt, Polyamory, Porn With Plot, Spitroasting, some violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-28
Updated: 2018-06-28
Packaged: 2019-05-30 02:55:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 40,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15087446
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/greenleafin/pseuds/greenleafin
Summary: It was supposed to be a simple mission. Get in, get out, get a victory drink. When it gets down to it, it was stupid to think things would be simple.





	Unguided Tendencies

Dust flew everywhere around them. It was beginning to settle, but not quickly enough that Gladio could see Prompto, nor Prompto him. They were a mere ten feet apart, but their fight had caused such a ruckus in the desert that the caked in dirt had become much less ‘caked’ and more like a fine mist that was now also threatening to fill their lungs. “Cover your mouth and nose,” Gladio called out, eyes flicking around him for any more daemons. 

“Already done,” was Prompto’s reply, slightly muffled. The danger wasn’t over yet, which was truly unfortunate. They had no more health potions, Ignis wasn’t with them, and Prompto was running out of bullets. Since Noctis went into the crystal, they no longer had access to the armiger, which meant no more access to unlimited supplies. 

Since Noctis went into the crystal…

_ Don’t think about it,  _ Gladio cut himself off sharply, and raised a bandana to cover half of his face. Finally as the wind began to carry the debris away he could see clearly—or rather, just slightly clearer—and he confirmed that Prompto had done the same. After what they’d just undergone, the blonde was a sight for sore eyes. Hair messed up just enough that it was endearing, and Gladio could tell that he was smiling underneath the cloth. 

The night around them was darker than it had been in a while. Clouds covered the moon, and the only light around them was the flashlights attached to their garments. Prompto had his in his breast pocket, and Gladio had his clipped to his neckline. It wasn’t ideal, but it worked. 

Prompto sniffed loudly and coughed—the stench of daemons fizzling into nothing was not a pleasant one. Once he noticed it, Gladio, too, had to resist the urge to gag once could taste the vile stink of it on his tongue, and he managed to fight off the wave of nausea. Prompto started to move closer to him, eyes trained on the ground to avoid tripping over anything. It was darker than anything Gladio ever remembered and so  _ fucking  _ hard to see. It wouldn’t end in the morning either. 

Ever since Luna had died the nights had become longer and longer. 

No one had noticed at first. It was gradual, just a few seconds longer before the sun rose in the morning, and it retired a few seconds earlier at night. It seemed natural for a while, just the passage of summer into fall. 

Though now, five years after Luna was murdered and Noctis...Well, five years later they were lucky to see the sun for three hours in a day. And it would just continue to get worse. 

“We done out here, Gladio?” 

The large man shook out his shoulders, rolled around his head on his sore neck. “Yeah, I’d say we’re done.” Gladio put his sword back into its sheath, and Prompto slipped his gun into the thigh holster he’d acquired sometime in the past few years. There was a little chocobo charm lovingly stitched onto it, something Ignis had done as a surprise.  

Their hunt had started off normally. Kill some sabertusks that were getting too close to one of the friendly outposts, thin out the thunderbomb population if they got the chance. There were simple directions for the hunt that Gladio had discussed with Prompto—do it, get the hell out of there before they got into more trouble, get a free meal from Takka, spend the night in the caravan. Simple, easy. Gladio was even looking forward to the shitty shower that he’d get to take. The water pressure was terrible, but it would get him clean. Maybe even take one with Prompto, depending on how the other man was feeling. 

This second half of their plan got shot to hell when Gladio turned around and two Red Giants began to materialize before them. 

He whispered, quietly, “Fuck,” and the back of one of the daemon’s arms swiped him twenty feet away. 

Pain reverberated through his body as he hit the ground hard, but all he could think of was the fact that Prompto was still so  _ close  _ to the daemons. He struggled for a second with getting  _ up,  _ and he heard a series of shots ring though the previously quiet night. One of the giants moved its spare hand to grip the sword, and Gladio knew where this was going. “Prompto!” he called out, and Prompto threw himself to the ground with just enough space to avoid getting sliced in half. The other giant tried to stomp on him, but Prompto rolled out of the way. Gladio gritted his teeth and ran forward, darting to the side—narrowly missing his doom. 

Gladio had readied out his greatsword already, and he swung as hard as he could. The hit landed on one of that giant’s legs, and a mighty roar filled his ears. He might’ve shivered if he had the time. 

Prompto too had regained his footing, and he shot at the same daemon Gladio had injured. It growled at them, and Gladio landed one more hit before having to back out once more. 

One thing they had on these beasts was that they were much faster. They could manage a few shots or chops before needing to retreat. The issue was, the giants had a much longer reach, and any hit they landed could be the last they needed to take out the two humans. Prompto popped off two more shots, though he was cutting it awful close. The giant shook its large head, obvious that it was hurting. Before Gladio could call out a warning, it happened. 

He hadn’t seen the other daemon closing in on Prompto, and the giant grabbed the blonde around his waist. Its grip was impossibly tight, and if it wanted it could easily flex its hand and squeeze the life out of him in one fell swoop. Prompto yelled in fear, and in his terror he dropped his gun. He was defenseless, though it wouldn’t have mattered anyway. Gladio spurred into action, but he could do little more than simply watch as the giant threw Prompto to the ground, the man bouncing and crashing down again, rolling away from the beast. There was no way that he could check on Prompto to make sure he was alive, but he could dart in there and grab him. Or, at least, he could  _ try.  _

Prompto blacked out for a moment or two, though perhaps it had been an eternity since he was last conscious. He had landed hard, and through the thrum of shock, he could hear the sickening sound of the bones in his wrist snapping—a bone?—it didn’t matter. He tried to scream, rolling onto his back and pushing up his hips into the air. He couldn’t breathe, couldn’t think, couldn’t fucking  _ see  _ anything through the pure, unadulterated agony. 

There was not a single doubt in his mind as the Red Giant came rushing towards him that he was going to die. Stupidly, for a brief moment he fixated on a cut to his arm that stung horribly with the sand ground into it. He knew he was about to be impaled, or stomped on, or sliced in half. There were a million ways that he could be killed in cold blood out here in the desert, and so he closed his eyes tight and waited for the worst. It was funny to him that his last thoughts would be of the scratchy desert ground poking at his exposed arms, a little tuft of grass ticking at his neck. 

What he was unable to ascertain was that Gladio had thrown himself between Prompto and that murderous giant. He had blocked the giant’s sword with his own, and the blade would not be long for this world if he kept this battle up. The beast made a sound of raw fury, and the other was making its way over to the scene as well. Gladio acted quickly, ducking quickly and ramming his sword through the daemon’s meaty thigh. Another horrendous yell erupted from the monster, and Gladio knew there was no way that he was getting that sword out without getting himself killed in the process. 

Through whatever graces of the Six, the giant was temporary immobilized, concerned only with getting the sword out of its leg. The other daemon rammed into it, and it sent the two to the ground with a large rumble. Gladio didn’t look back, just grabbed Prompto from the earth and  _ ran.  _

Their car was parked under the solitary street lamp in the area, and Gladio sprinted as fast as he could for it. In his arms, Prompto was making pathetic little whimpering noises, cradling his left wrist to himself, and Gladio was thankful for this small confirmation that at least Prompto was  _ breathing,  _ even if he was banged up pretty badly. 

The giants hadn’t caught on to their escape just yet, and soon enough Gladio found the beam of yellow light that he needed to head towards in the distance. He put every ounce of energy he had in his own battered body into his equally distressed legs, his knees protesting with each pump. He paid it no mind, just concentrated on the orb of light in the distance, which was quickly turning into general shapes, then more defined shapes. 

Just as they had left it, the car that Cindy had let them take off her hands for a few thousand gil sat waiting for them. Prompto’s eyes were opening and shutting slowly, though he hadn’t attempted to stir yet. Gladio hopped over the guardrail and almost collided with the car. He shifted Prompto to stand on his own feet, though he held him to his chest. With trembling fingers he located the keys he’d zipped into his pockets (an excellent foresight), and unlocked the car so he could get Prompto into his seat and buckled. Gladio moved onto to the driver’s side, and this time he could not suppress the shudder that went through his body as he paused outside the car, listening to the screams coming from the giants they had narrowly escaped. He threw the door open, clambered inside, and within seconds they were speeding down the highway back to Hammerhead. 

Gladio tried to keep his eyes on the road, but it was hard when to his right he could hear Prompto’s sad whimpers and the rattle in his chest as he tried to draw breaths. 

He hoped that he hadn’t punctured a lung. 

The streetlights they passed were few and far between, most of them broken due to vandals, daemons, or just a simple lack of maintenance. The car’s aging headlights didn’t illuminate much, and since there were no other vehicles on the road Gladio could stay in the middle of the two lanes, cutting back on sharpness of his turns despite his speed. Still, he was wary. No sense in risking hitting another sabretusk and getting them stranded still so far outside sanctuary. So Gladio furrowed his brow and pressed the gas down as far as he was comfortable with. 

The car crawled forward faster and faster. When the mileage hit almost ninety, he turned on the cruise control and sighed. His grip on the steering wheel had made his palms sweaty, and he hadn’t stopped shaking since their earlier scare. His knuckles were white, and he realized that he was still panting harshly. He shut his mouth and worked on willing his heart to slow down and his mind to stop racing. 

_ Get Prompto to Hammerhead. They can fix him up, it’ll be okay.  _

He wouldn’t feel better until they actually reached Hammerhead. 

A part of him that he would like nothing more than to stomp out and crush whispered to him,  _ What if you don’t make it? What if something else goes wrong? _ He firmly told himself to shove it and pressed on the gas pedal just a  _ little _ bit harder. 

There was little by means of scenery as he drove. The desert had never held much in terms of landmarks, but the once striking plateaus and wildlife had long been driven out by decay and daemons too hostile to share their land. What little greenery there was had not escaped the effects of the world rotting. Cacti and shrubbery alike were small and shriveled, desperate for the sun just as everyone else was. Instead what remained in this once beautiful landscape were cars littering the sides of the road, so rusted and battered that they would be unusable even if they hadn’t all been gutted for parts. If someone were to look closely, they would almost certainly find a gruesome and terrible scene laid before them. Once, years ago, Amicitia had stopped by one of these abandoned automobiles. Inside he had found a child’s car seat ripped to shreds, and blood splattering the entirety of the front seats. 

Now the desert held nothing for those who had spent their lives alongside it apart from broken memories and reminders that nothing was truly safe. 

Gladio forced his eyes back ahead, and took several deep breaths to try and calm himself. 

It took almost an hour—daylight certainly would’ve broken if anything in this gods forsaken world was normal—but Cindy’s much loved car rolled into the gas station outpost, and Gladio barely remembered to put it in park and turn the engine off before flinging his door open and rushing to Prompto’s side. 

Those that were scattered around the area knew something was wrong. Usually within moments of completing a hunt, Prompto himself would pop out of whatever transport he was in and noisily make his way to Takka’s diner, attracting fond smiles and interested queries as he went. 

These people were most certainly  _ not  _ accustomed to Gladiolus Amicitia hollering for help, and cursing wildly as the seatbelt he had so concernedly fastened now refused to unbuckle from its hold. He could feel his face heat up and his eyes prick with something almost akin to tears as he nearly screamed in frustration. 

Prompto’s eyes fluttered at his yell, and there was a small movement from his uninjured arm, but that was as much as he could do to assist. 

Cid hobbled over to help, though Gladio wasn’t aware of this until he was less-than-gently shoving Gladio’s hands out of the way and saying  _ something  _ that he was too frenzied to hear at first. 

_ Gods don’t take him please don’t take him from me too— _

“Go sit down. We’ll take care of this. Are you hearing me? Go sit down!” 

Finally he was able to shake his head and clear his throat, trying to say something, anything. His voice failed after the first syllable and he bobbed his head dumbly before retreating. He wasn’t sure quite how, but eventually the backs of his legs hit the flimsy plastic furniture that was placed before one of the caravans at the outpost, and he watched as Cindy was called over, and another man that Gladio recognized but didn’t know lifted Prompto from the car seat. 

The man held him bridal-style as they moved over to the garage. Gladio almost protested, but there was no way they would hear him. There was no way they would listen, either. They knew what they were doing, and Gladio—simply put—did not. 

Not for the first time Gladio wished Ignis was there. He was always better at these kinds of things. 

Gladio took the big hits when his friends could not. He kept them safe, he was their  _ shield.  _ But he failed. First once, and now again right here. He forced himself to breathe deeply and exhaled with something close to a snarl. 

Like hell he would just sit in some stupid lawn chair and twiddle his thumbs. He launched himself up, and with long strides made his way to the garage opening. Inside there were several people rushing around, and he paused in the doorway. He choked up when he tried speaking again before reminding himself that he wasn’t a weakling. 

Summoning all the bravado he had left in his exhausted and battered body he announced his presence with, “Is there anything I can do?” 

No one paid him any mind for a long moment, and he nearly asked again before Cindy spoke up. “There ain’t nothing you can do right now. He needs his arm taken care of and a potion and he’ll be good as new in the morning.” She jerked her head back towards where he had just been, and he loved the woman like his own family, but it took nearly everything he had within himself to not snap at her. 

“There has to be  _ something. _ ” 

Maybe it was the look on his face, or the way his gods damned voice cracked, but she sighed and motioned him over. 

“He’s running a fever right now. It’s not threatening or anything,” she added hurriedly. “Just...Get a wet washcloth, hold it to his head, and if he wakes up again tell him everything’s gonna be okay. Got it?” 

She flitted away and Gladio paused before calling after her, “Wakes up  _ again? _ ” She didn’t hear him, or rather she ignored him, and he looked around for anything he could dampen. Over by the sink there were a few hand towels, and he didn’t waste time wondering if these were inappropriate to use before rushing over and grabbing one. He looked up at the dusty and abused mirror above the fixture and immediately wished he hadn’t. He averted his gaze from the weary-looking shell of a man that had the same eyes as him, and wetted the cloth. He dried his hands by running them through his hair in an attempt to tame the mess, and he returned to Prompto’s side immediately after. 

He folded the cloth up to a nice square and held it to Prompto’s inflamed forehead, just as instructed. He could tell that Prompto’s cheeks were hot, and his breathing was labored. There was a brief moment of panic where Gladio feared that a lung had been punctured, but he quelled the emotion quickly with whatever logic and reasoning he could muster. Prompto may be badly—so, so badly—hurt, but a punctured lung was not amongst his ailments. 

After what felt like an eternity but the clock told him was only a couple minutes, Cindy, Cid, and the other person showed up by Prompto’s bedside. The man that Gladio hadn’t recognized earlier was saying a lot of things that sounded awfully similar to how he had heard doctors speak in the past, and Cid and the man had their heads bowed, discussing quietly. He smelled sterile, like he had bathed in bleach before he had arrived. The sharp tang of it hit Gladio’s nose and he sniffed. 

It was then that Prompto groaned quietly, eyes opening with what seemed like a great effort.

A faint question arose out him, a single name that looked like it hurt him more than anything to say.  _ Gladio.  _ Gladio stroked his hair and leaned down so that his forehead touched Prompto’s. “I’m right here, you’re okay, everything’s okay. We’re safe and we’re gonna get you healed up.” From the corner of his eye, he could see Cindy nodding approvingly, even if her expression was pained.

“They have to reset his arm,” she informed him quietly. Gladio swallowed, and turned his attention from her grim expression back to the blonde man before him. 

The man stepped up and took a long look at Prompto’s arm. “You’re going to have to hold him down. He’s going to struggle and you  _ need  _ to keep him down.” Gladio nodded again and set his jaw. The man’s eyes flickered over to Prompto’s, and he sighed heavily. “It would’ve been better if you were still passed out.” 

There was no way that as dazed out as he currently was Prompto had understood him, but his chest still began rising and falling a little faster due to the tone. Cindy grabbed ahold of Prompto’s legs, and Gladio took his cue to put his body weight onto Prompto’s shoulders. 

“Wh…” Prompto uttered, nearly inaudible, and the rest was cut off with a sharp inhale of breath and a small, tiny cry as the man took hold of his arm. Prompto tried in vain to shift, panicking when Cindy and Gladio simply held him tighter. The makeshift hospital bed rattled, and all he was doing was causing himself further pain while the man still held his arm. Gladio tried to quiet him, but there would be no getting through. He looked at the doctor, and fear and worry must have been in his eyes, because that was all that was on his mind. There was a bob of the man’s head, and with one sharp movement, he popped the bone back into place. 

Prompto  _ screamed _ . 

Gladio felt sick, and Prompto desperately tried to writhe beneath him. Gladio doubled down his efforts even as Prompto sobbed. He yelled until his voice was raw, and still he kept on. The amount of agony he was feeling was so evident and due to his condition there was no way he could’ve tried and bridled himself. It absolutely broke Gladio to see him like this, heartache written on his face just as misery was on Prompto’s. The man splinted his arm swiftly, and when he was done he returned the appendage back to Prompto’s side. By the time he was done, Prompto had managed to knock himself out again, tears still fresh on his face. His long hair was absolutely caked with mud and dirt, and if he were awake he would hate it. 

Gladio swallowed and realized with a start that he wanted to throw up desperately, the awful  _ crunch  _ sound refusing to leave his mind. He tried to concentrate on anything else except the horrible sound reverberating in his brain. There was little to be said. The crude and brutal way they had reset Prompto’s arm had worked, but they were all left with a bitter taste in their mouths from what they had just witnessed. 

“Can you open his mouth?” Cindy’s voice was so soft, and Gladio had to take a second before realizing she was speaking to him, shaking his head to try and remove the shock that clouded his thinking. He pulled Prompto’s chin down and Cindy poured in a potion slowly. Gladio lifted Prompto’s head so she could massage the liquid down his throat. A little trickle of it fell past his lips and down his cheek, and Gladio swiped at it with his thumb. 

It would take a little while to fully work, but already the harsh red began to leave Prompto’s cheeks and was replaced with a more comforting pink shade. Gladio let out a long,  _ long  _ sigh of relief. 

The four of them stood quietly, staring down at the injured man rather than saying anything for the time being. Gladio finally noticed that everyone else that had been in the garage was gone by then, and he shifted to one foot. 

Finally, Cid spoke up. “Just what  _ happened _ out there?” 

He might’ve laughed if he just didn’t feel so damn tired. “We weren’t expecting two Red Giants to pop up out there together. Might’ve been able to handle it if it was one, but Prompto got clipped so early and…” He stopped himself, refusing to delve down that train of thought. Everyone knew how much he cared for Prompto anyway, so he shook his head. “The priority became getting him out of there. Tomorrow I can head back out with some other hunters and we—”

“Oh no,” Cindy drawled. Gladio opened his mouth and she quirked a brow at him. “You are in no shape to be goin’ out there again. It’ll end up the same way, except next time you might not be so lucky to escape.” 

He wanted to rise up to his full height to argue but he could feel just how weary he was, just so damn exhausted and beat up. Reasonably he knew he would not be going back out anywhere for the next couple days, but still he persisted. 

“Just give me an elixir, I’ll be alright.” He could  _ make  _ himself be alright. 

“I’ll give you one, but you’re not going back again tomorrow!” 

“There’s still a settlement out there that needs someone to take care of those daemons!” 

Cindy sucked in a hurried breath. “They can wait just a couple days. We have no hunters here that are on yours or Prompto’s level.”

Once more Gladio was about to speak but this time Cid was the one who cut him off. “Gladiolus, you are in no condition to go fight those monsters.” At Gladio’s restlessness, Cid fixed him with a glare that was hard enough to keep him silent. “You need to call Marshal Leonis.” 

This time Gladio’s mouth went dry. “I don’t need to call him. I’ll stay put for a couple days, then me and Prompto can gather some other men and we’ll go.” 

“You are calling the marshal when you get up and that is final, Gladio. He’s still in Lestallum for another while, there’s no reason not to.” 

_ Except I don’t want him here,  _ Gladio nearly snarled inside his head. 

He was being irrational—obviously—but he didn’t want Cor the Immortal there in Hammerhead. Not when he could  _ handle  _ this if only they would  _ let  _ him. Gladio cleared his throat, feeling a rattle in his chest as he did so. He stared pointedly at the floor and prayed to the Six that Cid wouldn’t make him audibly confirm that he would follow orders like Clarus had made him do so many times as a child. 

Wincing, he tried to shake the memory from his head. He was mercifully interrupted by Cindy calmly pressing a smooth, chilled vial into his hand. He looked up at her and she had a small smile on her face before nodding at the potion. “Drink up and go to bed. We’ll keep you busy tomorrow, don’t you worry.” She set her hand on his shoulder, the soft grin still on her lips. “Get some rest though, okay? Make sure Prom’s comfortable tonight. And don’t worry about the caravan price, it’s on the house for the next couple days.” He agreed softly and popped the cork out of the bottle. He downed the fluid in one go and could feel it begin to warm up his insides after it passed his esophagus. 

Prompto—so quiet up until this point that Gladio had assumed he’d fallen asleep again—let out a tiny groan of pain. He cradled his arm to himself, bottom lip quivering slightly. He was so dazed that he hadn’t perked at the mention of the marshal, nor did he respond to his own name the first few times he was called. Gladio sighed and crouched down next to the folding table that he’d been placed on. 

“You okay to walk?” 

The look Prompto gave him suggested that technically he was alright to travel by his own feet, but he would really prefer if he didn’t have to. Gladio huffed out a chuckle and rose once more. 

“Thank you guys, for, um. Everything, I guess.” He rubbed the back of his head, pulling weakly at the half ponytail that had knotted considerably since the beginning of the day. Cid and Cindy’s responses were kind, and Gladio looked back down at his blonde companion. “You good for me to pick you up?” 

“Careful of his arm,” Cindy rushed to say, the concern etched into her face. Gladio had to resist the urge to roll his eyes because of fucking course he’d be careful. He said nothing, and pushed one arm underneath Prompto’s legs, the other wedging underneath his back. He pulled the smaller man closer to him and lifted him like he weighed nothing. Prompto immediately sank into his chest, and with one final ‘good night’ from the both of them, Gladio made his way over to the caravan. He set Prompto down on the couch and plopped next to him, slinging an arm over his eyes and just focused on his breathing. 

Prompto squirmed next to him, letting out little whines and gasps and Gladio screwed his eyes shut even tighter. Eventually the squirming stopped, and Gladio took his arm away from his face. 

At a glance, Prompto looked terrible. He was bruised and had blood coming from cuts Gladio didn’t even know he had. His hair was a mess, and one eye was almost swollen shut. Not to mention the sling around his arm, and the way he sat so as not to put pressure on his ribcage the best he could. He looked so pitiful and it broke Gladio’s heart. 

“I’m going to the car to get us some new clothes. You good to get in the shower?” 

“Can I wait for you?” 

“Would that help?” 

Prompto bobbed his head in affirmation, and Gladio patted his knee before standing. “Then I’ll be right back.” 

As he moved, he could feel the elixir sloshing around in his stomach, the slight tingling sensation in his body slowly growing in intensity. He hated this, but bore it since he knew that it just meant it was working. He jogged to the vehicle and popped the trunk. He grabbed one outfit from his bag and one from Prompto’s and shoved them into their joint nightbag before making his way back. 

There was a noticeable limp in his left leg, and he cursed inwardly as soon as he realized just how much it was troubling him. There were a million other things he wanted to stew in his anger about, all directed at himself and how he couldn’t protect Prompto better, but he was at the caravan door now, and Prompto would know if he was in a bad mood. So for the blonde’s sake, he tried to keep his expression neutral. 

Prompto wasn’t on ugly paisley polyester couch when Gladio walked back in, but after another second of poking his head around he found him in the bathroom, panting loudly through gritted teeth. He was trying to pull his shirt over his head, and he had half succeeded. When it came to trying to lift his other arm up enough to get his shoulder out of the cloth though, he let out an actual cry, and Gladio rushed forward. 

Together they managed to get the tattered material off of Prompto’s head, and it was thrown atop of his vest. Gladio made quick work of Prompto’s belt and pants, and placed them in the same pile. His boots and socks were already off, left near the entrance of the bathroom. 

When Gladio concentrated on Prompto’s nearly naked body, he could see even more bruises and cuts, could see the scars that had multiplied on his torso over the last five years. Gladio swallowed past the lump in his throat, and helped Prompto step out of his boxers. Prompto had already turned the water on, and it was warm enough now to actually step in. Gladio quickly undressed, and took his place behind Prompto. 

They bathed quickly. Gladio helped Prompto wash his hair and the right side of his body. Gladio scrubbed at the two of them until their skin was nearly raw, and made sure every speck of blood that was on the blonde previously was rinsed away. Gladio stepped out first, drying himself and wrapping the towel around his waist before he assisted Prompto in doing the same. Prompto looked pitifully at the hair brush that he laid out before, and Gladio took the nonverbal cue to pick up the slack. He grabbed the brush, and worked out the tangles in Prompto’s ends, nearly touching his shoulders now. He was as gentle as he could be, and managed to keep the winces he saw to a minimum. He worked at Prompto’s widow’s peak and pulled his hair backwards, then parted it in the middle. It wasn’t perfect, but Prompto wasn’t in a position to complain, and so it would do. 

Soon after they were resting in the caravan’s master bed, letting their naked bodies drip onto the sheets. Gladio turned on the TV for a few minutes —some wrestling program that was recorded about twelve years ago— but turned it off again once he realized that Prompto’s eyes had drifted shut. 

Neither of them said anything for a long while. Gladio was keeping the negative thoughts at bay just barely, and Prompto’s attempts at doing the same were wholly fruitless. 

With great effort, Prompto managed to lay on his right side, looking up at Gladio with his sad, pretty lilac gaze. Prompto still laughed and smiled like he used to, but the light in his eyes had gone out the moment Noctis was embedded in the crystal. 

“I’m sorry, Gladio.” 

Gladio growled low in his throat. “I’m not going to dignify that with anything. You have nothing to be sorry for.” 

“Like you said, I got wiped out so early and-and—” 

“ _ Stop, _ ” Gladio instructed, perhaps a bit harsher than intended. “You did the best you could out there. It’s my fault you got hurt in the first place.” 

Prompto buried his face in Gladio’s pectorals, his voice so muffled that it was barely understandable. “It’s not your fault.” 

“Then it’s not yours either.” 

That got him to stop and sigh, and Gladio wrapped his arm around him, careful of his broken appendage. This time when there was a lull in conversation, Prompto actually managed to fall asleep. Gladio was thankful on his behalf, but distraught when slumber did not find him so easily. Now he had nothing else to distract him from his thoughts, and there was no way that he could get up without waking Prompto. Instead he carded his fingers through Prompto’s locks and surrendered himself to the neverending whirlwind that was within his mind. 

Gladio idolized Cor; one would be a fool not to. His reason for not wanting the other man to show was simple, and it was a bit selfish. Long since they had started their initial adventure Cor had also been courting Prompto. Or perhaps it had been the other way around. Regardless of who had started it, the outcome was the same. 

None of the other three of them were interested in the Immortal, neither was he in them. But something about the blonde made him reconsider his stance of celibacy. Or what Gladio  _ assumed  _ was celibacy due to a lack of showing emotions. Ever. However, the issue wasn’t that Prompto wanted to fuck Cor constantly. Gladio could understand it. Leonis was an attractive man, and apparently very good at what he did. 

From the moment that he’d arrived at their party at the old king’s tomb, Prompto devoted nearly every moment of his time to be around the older man. Meal times he practically spent in Cor’s lap; the rare occasions they had camped with Cor, Prompto spent cuddled up next to him instead of sandwiched between the rest of their group like he normally was. For whatever reason (though since Gladio knew Prompto, he knew what the reason was), a soft, doting side was revealed within Cor whenever the blonde was present. He could make a young love-struck fool out of the Immortal like seemingly no one else could. Then when the marshal departed, Prompto was sullen for a while. 

He was jealous of Cor, Gladio would admit that to himself. 

Yet with the current situation, there was no avoiding asking for his help. Gladio sighed, his breath ruffling Prompto’s hair and causing his freckled nose to twitch. Gladio continued to brush his hand through the field of blonde and screwed his eyes shut. 

Images of the day’s events flashed through his mind, unable to unsee the memory of Prompto taking a hit he shouldn’t have. Unable to stop the train of thought that insisted he should have  _ been there to stop it  _ from its course. 

Prompto would tell him that it was fine, make some joke about it and move on. Ignis would tell him not to worry, that it had passed and Prompto was fine now. Noctis would call him a baby, and that Gladio snickered at despite the bittersweet feeling that arose within. 

At some point in the morning between kicking himself and flopping between being happy to see the Immortal and dreading it, Gladio fell into a deep sleep. 

Sometime during the afternoon his eyes snapped open, and he panicked for a brief moment at the empty space in the bed next to him. He sat up, ignoring the screaming residual soreness in his entire body in favor of calling out Prompto’s name and trying to clamber out of bed. 

In his fugue state he tried to piece together exactly what had happened before he had slept, but it still took a few seconds to recognize exactly where he was, and that he could hear the padding of Prompto’s feet quickly crossing the caravan. 

“Glad to see you’re awake. Cid asked about you, but I told him that I didn’t want to take you up.” A look of concern overcame Prompto’s face and he tilted his head. “Are you okay? You look kinda...Freaked.” 

Gladio cleared his throat and grumbled out, “Yeah, I’m fine. What time is it?” 

Prompto looked at his phone in his hand and responded, “Three in the afternoon. We have about an hour of daylight left if we’re lucky.”

The shield nodded and studied the man before him. He still held his arm closely to him, though rather than a sling he was sporting bandages around his wrist and hand. The bruises were gone, as were the cuts, but there was an underlying exhaustion in his body posture and eyes. 

“How are you feeling?” 

He was met with a shrug and pause before an answer. “Can’t complain.” Gladio only had to narrow his eyes before Prompto chuckled and continued. He took a moment to close his eyes tightly, and pressed the heel of his hand to his temple. Gladio was immediately concerned, but Prompto waved him off. “I’m just tired, don’t make a big deal out of it. Arm’s still sore and I feel like I was hit by a truck, but they just gave me another potion and I’m doing a lot better. What about you?” 

“Fine. I could eat an entire garula though.” 

“We thought you’d say that,” Prompto hummed. “There’s about thirty Cup Noodles in the kitchen, or Takka made a ton of bacon and eggs for brunch. Your call.” 

As tempting as the noodles were, Gladio’s mouth damn near watered at the mention of the greasy, crispy meat. He jerkily got out of bed and clumsily made his way into his own clothing. He was going to invite Prompto with him, but he had already made himself comfortable on the couch, and his chin was slowly drooping its way to his padded chest. “Why don’t you just go to bed?” Gladio asked, keeping his voice low and soothing. 

“Not tired.” 

Gladio snorted. “I’m sure. I’ve got a couple things to take care of though after I eat, so why don’t you just take a nap?” 

Prompto didn’t seem to want to move though, and Gladio waited patiently for him to finally haul himself up and shamble over to the bedroom. He kicked off his shoes and outer clothes with Gladio following behind him. Once he laid down, Gladio leaned over and kissed his forehead before Prompto cupped his cheeks with his hands and maneuvered Gladio’s head for an actual kiss. Gladio obliged him for a few moments before Prompto quietly moaned into his mouth and he drew away. He laughed at the sad whine that accompanied his movement and squeezed Prompto’s hand with his own, larger one. “I’ll be back soon.” 

The other man sighed, but flopped over onto his stomach and buried his face in the pillow. Gladio left the caravan and stepped outside. 

It might have been any other normal summer day were it not for the fact that the sun was already setting, and already there was an uneasy air that settled among the patrons of Hammerhead. He made his way to the diner and made quiet conversation with Takka there while the cook heated up his meal. Gladio took his time eating in his best effort to put off moving onto his next task. 

People trickled in and out of the place, but they were either people Gladio didn’t know, or didn’t know well enough to talk to. There wasn’t much noise in the diner. Just the occasional scrape of a fork across a plate, or someone coughing from across the room. Gladio felt several pairs of eyes on his back, and it made his skin crawl. He kept his eyes forward, refusing to engage lest he regret it. News of Prompto’s incident had undoubtedly spread around the settlement, and Gladio’s presence more likely than not made the other patrons uncomfortable after their gossip. There was a muted whisper from one of the booths, and he might have been paranoid but he could’ve sworn he heard Prompto’s name pass their lips. He scowled, and kept his eyes still trained on the counter before him. Concentrated on the etchings of initials encircled in shoddy hearts and rudimentary drawings of flowers and other random things rather than the snickers around him. 

Eventually the bacon and eggs ran out, as did any room in his stomach for potential thirds. He sighed, and tried to pay his dues for the meal. Takka—as usual—refused his money, but when his back was turned Gladio left some gil on the counter and nearly ran out. 

The sky was now orange and purple, with the darker color quickly spreading. It would be night soon, and the flood lights would have to be turned on once more to stave off the daemons. 

He made his way to a bench around the back of the restaurant, facing out towards the desert. He figured that he wouldn’t be bothered there unless someone came out the backdoor to take out the trash. For now, though, he had his privacy. 

His thumb wavered over the call button for one name in particular in his cell, and even as his digit twitched and pressed the green phone icon, he couldn’t help but think he’d much rather be dialing for Ignis. 

Ignis wasn’t an option though, he knew that. 

Before the other end could ring a third time, there was a clearing of a throat from the line, a brief shuffling sound, and finally a “Gladiolus. Is everything alright?” 

Leave it to Cor Leonis to address him so formally, despite everything they’d been through together. Everything they’d  _ all  _ been through. 

“Yes and no. A couple of red giants popped up by a settlement, and Prompto and I need help taking them out.” 

“There are no other hunters in your area?” Gladio could tell the other man was stressed. His voice had a gravel to it that was not normally there, and he kept sighing. 

“Guess not. Cid told me to call you.” 

There was a brief pause and Gladio could hear a voice in the background, though he couldn’t figure out who it was or what they were saying. Cor—also distant now—responded and then returned his attention the call. “Very well. I’ll send some glaives out immediately to assist you.” 

Gladio kept his groan inward. “No-I. Listen, Cid said that it needed to be you. The settlement may not have a lot of time. It’s mostly just old farmers. Their generators are running low, and so are their supplies. But they can’t get out of there because of these giants stalking them.” There was no need to mention that by the time they were able to take care of these beasts, there would be even more daemons swarming the area, lulled in by these monsters. 

“I understand that they’re in danger, Gladiolus. However, there are matters in Lestallum that need my attention, and you have my assurance that the help that I send you will be more than adequate.” 

That was it, Gladio had to play his trump card. “Prompto was hurt by those things. He—” 

“Prompto was hurt?” The rush of words hit Gladio’s ear, and he knew already that he had won. “Why didn’t you tell me? Is he—” 

“He’s fine. His wrist, or arm, or something was broken but he had it reset and we have enough potions to spare for his recovery. I figured you’d want a crack at these bastards, though.” 

Cor snickered and let out a long breath once more. “I can leave by tonight and get there by midday tomorrow. Will this work?” 

“Yeah, that’s good. You want me to tell Prompto you’re coming?” 

There was a thoughtful pause on the other end. “Keep it a secret. Let him focus on getting better.” That was translation for he wanted to surprise the blonde. Who knew that scrawny little Prompto could turn the Immortal into such a romantic. 

Well, that wasn’t entirely fair to Prompto. He did have a very pleasingly muscular build and such  _ nice  _ tits. Gladio realized with a start that he  _ really  _ wanted to get back to the caravan’s bed. 

“Is that all then?” 

Gladio was snapped out of his thoughts and he confirmed that that was all he had to say for then. They said their quick goodbyes, and Amicitia watched for a few minutes as the sun finally dipped below the horizon line. Soon all light would be snuffed out of the world for the next twenty-one hours. 

Or perhaps it wouldn’t ever come back up. Who was to say anymore? 

He rose and stretched the kinks out of his back before striding over to the garage. Cindy was stuck inside the hood of some car, her yellow coveralls almost entirely black with grease now. He passed her and headed for the office, knocking twice at the door. 

“Come in,” was the response, and Gladio did just that. 

Cid was seated atop his desk rather than in the chair that was conveniently placed a mere foot away from him. His cap was placed to the side, and his tongue was sticking out while he tinkered with one of the parts of a rifle. Gladio watched with interest until Cid finally made a noise of positive exclamation, and set the parts and tools. He picked up the red cap and slapped it back on his head, dusting his hands on his jeans after. 

“How’re you feelin’?” 

Gladio almost shrugged in response just like Prompto had, and hid his smile at the thought. “A lot better than last night. Thanks for the potions, and making sure Prom’s okay.” 

“Not an issue at all, my boy. There’s not anything I wouldn’t do to help you boys.” The moment of affection was rare, and Gladio almost got choked up. 

Since King Regis’s and his own father’s passing, there was little by ways of fatherly figures to him. Cid’s presence was a positive one, even if the old coot was a bit overbearing and obnoxious sometimes. 

“I called the marshal like you asked. He’s gonna head out soon, and be here by tomorrow. I guess as soon as he does we’ll start making a plan and head out the moment we can. Oh, that reminds me. If we could take some more weapons off your hands for some gil, that would be great.” 

“You’re in luck. This rifle I was messing with is actually for Prompto. I know he’s more used to handguns, but I figured for this mission at least these’d help. They’ve got a lot more bite to ‘em, and I know he can make do with just about any projectile.” Cid winked. “Don’t tell him, though. It’s not finished, and I’m not sure I can get it done in time, but if I can it’ll make a nice present for him.” Another surprise for Prompto. Gladio was starting to get a little jealous. That was, until Cid pointed to a corner of the room where a large, long object was covered with a tarp. 

“That baby is for you, though. It’s heavier, packs way more of a punch, and I engraved the hilt myself.” Gladio was dumbstruck for a second before Cid quipped, “Go ahead, take a look. She’s done and yours now, kid.” 

There was no need to tell him twice. Gladio hurried over to it in just two long steps and whipped the tarp off. The greatsword had almost as much width as it did length, and boy was it long. Gladio peered closer and found that there were flowers carved along it, with thin strips of leather making up the handle. Gladiolus flowers. Cid really had just made the weapon for him. Gladio whipped his head around, and Cid nodded—a huge smile extended across his face. 

Tentatively, Gladio grabbed the sword with both hands and held it up. It was much too big to take a practice swing in the room, but he could already tell that the weight was perfect for his strength. 

“Cid, I...Shit. I don’t know how to thank you for this, it’s too-too perfect.” 

“Don’t worry about it. You killin’ those daemons will be thanks enough for me.” 

Gladio shifted awkwardly on his feet, gripping the sword’s handle tightly and relaxing before repeating the movement a few times. Cid wasn’t looking at him, preferring to study how Gladio was holding it, looking like he was taking mental notes about how to improve it if he needed to. Gladio cleared his throat and Cid’s aged wrinkled eyes flicked back to him. 

“You’re a pretty awesome dinosaur, you know that?” 

His comment shocked a genuine snort out of Cid. “Careful. I’ll take it back from you quicker’n you can blink.” They shared a chuckle and Cid went on. “You should get back to your boy. Tell him there’s another elixir with his name on it if he’s not feeling better by tonight.” 

Amicitia’s heart fluttered at the mention of  _ his boy  _ before brow furrowed. “He said he was doing better.” Cid grunted noncommittally and Gladio opened his mouth to push the issue further. 

“He is,” Cid hurried to say. “He’s not a hundred percent, but it’s not for me to say. He got pretty hurt out there.” The look on Gladio’s face must have revealed something about how he felt because next thing he knew there was a withered hand on his shoulder and a comforting smile on the other man’s face. “You did your best. You got him out and back here, and he’s gonna be just fine. Don’t worry about him, he’s a big kid.” Gladio’s nose twitched and once more he coughed out the nonexistent lump in his throat. 

“I, uh.” He tried, voice not altogether there. “Thank you, Cid. For everything.” Cid ruffled his hair with some force and patted his scarred cheek. 

“Go on now, Takka’s gonna have dinner in a few hours if you’re up for it.” 

Obediently, Gladio began to make his way out of the office, though he paused in the doorway. “Oh, don’t tell Prom that Cor’s coming. The marshal wanted it to be a surprise or something.” 

The older man was blessedly unaware of the odd relationship that all of them had going on, and he happily agreed to it without too much skepticism. Gladio took the sword with him and ducked out, heading back to the caravan. Cindy had finally popped out from the vehicle she’d been working on, and he chatted with her for a minute before promising that he and Prompto would join them for dinner. He made it out of the garage without further incident, and when he finally arrived back in the trailer, there were no signs of life within until Gladio paused outside the bedroom door, hearing muted sounds of someone wrestling in bed sheets. 

He set his newly crafted weapon in a corner and opened the door slowly to try and avoid an annoying creak, but the aged woodwork was determined to vex him and angrily made itself known the entire way inward. Gladio peeped in, and Prompto still lay in bed, unconscious. He pushed forward the rest of the way, and shut the damned thing behind him. 

Prompto was stretched out on his stomach, clutching a pillow to himself similar to how Gladio had first left him. When he was asleep it was hard to tell that he had aged at all since the events at Niflheim. He’d grown out his hair a fair amount, but his soft freckles stayed the same, and it was hard to remember despite all that they had accomplished and fought for that he was still so young. It was hard to remember that Gladio was still young by most people’s perspectives. 

Again Prompto shifted and as though he could tell in his sleep that one of his beloveds was above him, he rolled over onto his back and pushed his head back, leaving his soft, pale neck vulnerable. It was tempting to dive in immediately, but Gladio needed to wake him up first. 

“Hey, Prom,” he began quietly, barely above a whisper. 

Sleepily, he barely received an answer. “Promptooo,” he repeated, just the tiniest bit louder. This time Prompto twitched, and when Gladio called out his name the third time, blue eyes finally blinked open. He seemed confused as he normally did when he was woken up, but realization quickly flooded into his expression.

“Hi, Gladio.” His words were slurred ever so slightly, and his voice was lower than it had any right to be. 

“Hi, baby,” he echoed with pure fondness. “You sleep okay?” 

Rather than confirming verbally, Prompto nodded and covered his mouth when he yawned. He tried to close his eyes once more, but Gladio pinched him gently. Prompto whined, and then did so once more when Gladio poked at his side. 

The sheets had slipped down past Prompto’s chest and neared his hips, and Gladio took in a happy eyeful of Prompto’s rising chest. 

Still, there were more pressing matters. “What’s this I hear about you not feeling well?” 

Prompto groaned and struggled to sit up, wincing when he accidentally put too much weight on his bad wrist. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Once again, Gladio used his name. This time it was with a much more warning tone that he had previously, and the blonde exhaled. “Okay, fine, you got me. I didn’t want to tell you because you’d make it a bigger deal that it was.” 

“When have I  _ ever?”  _ Gladio joked, but he knew exactly what Prompto was talking about. Ignis was definitely more prone to worrying, but Gladio absolutely had his fair share of overbearingness. 

“Everything just... _ hurts,”  _ Prompto admitted. His hands fisted in the sheets on either side of his legs, and he was staring somewhere ahead of himself. “Nothing’s broken anymore, and the doc did a full check-up on me today. But I’m just wasting resources, and I’ll get better anyway so it doesn’t matter.” 

“Of course it matters, Prom.” Gladio was torn between feeling the need to angrily reprimand Prompto for once again trying to doubt his worth, and wanting to coddle him. He inhaled, and struggled to find a midpoint between the two. “ _ You  _ are worth as many potions and fix-it kits there are on this entire base. Got it?” 

Prompto’s shoulders lifted and fell in response, and Gladio sighed. “You have to tell me when you feel like shit, though. What if I was a bigger idiot than I am and made us go back out there today?” 

“Then I would’ve gone and kept my mouth shut.” 

Gladio wanted to strangle him. “No,” he began harshly. “That’s the  _ opposite  _ of what I want to hear from you. Have some damn self-preservation every once in a while.” 

“I’m fine, though!” 

It was only now that Gladio noticed just how badly Prompto was trembling. The way he held himself was so stiff, and ever since the brief moment when he had been grabbing at the sheets, he had switched to favoring his arm once more. Gladio frowned and maneuvered himself so that he was sitting before Prompto. “If there is anything I can do to help you, just let me know. Cid said there’s a potion just waiting for you if you need it tonight, okay? You don’t need to feel bad about needing a little extra help, you deserve it just as much as anyone.” Prompto nodded along with his words, though he didn’t look like he believed it. “You deserve it more than a lot of people, if I’m being honest.” 

This finally got Prompto to smile and he shoved at Gladio’s shoulders. “Shut up.” Gladio pushed back against him and wrapped one arm around Prompto’s waist, the other hand coming up to tangle in his hair. 

The way Prompto was looking at him screamed for something to be done about those bedroom eyes, and they did have a while before dinner but...But Prompto was hurt still, and far be it from him to do anything to make that worse. So instead he just laid down next to the other man, careful to keep his shoes off the bed. Prompto took his cue to lean over him, placing soft and delicate kisses on Gladio’s lips as the older man closed his eyes and grinned. 

For a long time they stayed this way, exchanging conversation and slow and long make-out sessions. If Gladio could tune out the rest of the world, ignore every single one of his looming and terrible responsibilities, then maybe he could be happy just like this. 

At a non-face value though, he knew he couldn’t. For starters they needed to worry about the settlement that was being plagued by big, ugly bastards, and soon after that he and Prompto would be separated again for Six knew how long, Ignis would move somewhere else, and they’d be right back where they started. Isolated, alone. He closed his eyelids rather than think too hard on it. Evened his breathing, pushed the nagging sentiments from his head. Prompto was here with him now, and they had a couple days before needing to risk their lives again. He could make this work. 

Eventually they did need to get up. Gladio pried his mouth off Prompto’s neck and whispered a gruff ‘ _ Really?’  _ to his already stiffening cock. Prompto noticed and giggled at it, merriment turning to a squeak when Gladio shoved a pillow over his face. He held it there for a second before pulling it away, and the fear of being almost suffocated seemed to disappear with the object, a wide and toothy smirk still fixed on Prompto’s mouth. 

“Come on, we’re going to Takka’s.” 

Gladio watched as Prompto slowly worked his way up, very carefully not voicing any of his grievances if he was still in pain. Prompto bent down to grab his boots, perhaps just a bit too quickly. He seized suddenly and hissed, and as Gladio took a step towards him, he held out his hand to get him to stop. Dutifully, he did so, and Prompto took short, shallow breaths as he worked to finish his task. He stood up slowly, and nodded. Whether it was an affirmation to Gladio or to himself it was unclear. Once Prompto was dressed they turned to leave the caravan. Gladio jerked his head forward, keeping his voice even and nonchalant as he asked, “You need another potion?” 

Prompto was quiet for a moment before sounding equally inquisitive. “No?” 

Now Gladio turned to him and raised an eyebrow. Prompto winced and amended, “Maybe?” Gladio furthered his intense gaze and Prompto cracked. “Fine, yeah. I’d like one if it’s okay. If they don’t have one or—” 

“Prompto, I will make you a damn elixir myself if they do not have one but you are getting a potion.” He stressed the last few words and Prompto sighed heavily. 

Their way to Takka’s was slow going. The two of them were sore and tense from not having moved for so long, and by the time they entered Cid and Cindy were both already almost done with their meals in a booth to the side of the diner. Gladio slid in next to Cindy, and Prompto plopped onto the other side of the booth, hip checking the elderly mechanic playfully. 

One throaty “Hello” and one chipper “Heya!” were thrown out, and both the newcoming men responded with their own greetings. Takka appeared a moment later with two steaming plates of steak and fries and Gladio whistled. 

“Long time since we last had steak.” 

“Long time since we had someone bring it in,” Takka answered and pointed his thumb at a man on the barstool who was waving his arms above his head, obviously more than a little drunk. Gladio gave him a two-fingered salute, and Prompto waved back with a happy  _ Thanks, Grain!  _

With the hunter arriving back from his trip, customers at Takka’s diner would be eating well for a while. Grain was a very experienced gamesman, but useless when it came to daemons, otherwise Gladio might’ve had half a mind to recruit him on their adventure. 

When he and Prompto turned their attentions back to the table, Cindy was tapping her finger next to a dark blue vial, pointedly staring out the window. Gladio nudged Prompto’s foot with his own under the table, and with an unhappy yet inaudible murmur, Prompto uncorked it and drank. 

They stayed out for a long while. They both had a bit too much to drink, though Prompto being the lightweight that he was that wasn’t saying much. Someone had wrestled out an old karaoke set, and Takka dimmed the lights to the diner and set up one yellow spotlight for whoever decided to sing. 

It wasn’t unusual for small events like these to happen at Hammerhead. Cindy especially was a stickler for having something  _ fun  _ to do. It was nice of her, something to keep everyone sane against the harsher realities outside their garage. Prompto went up with Cindy to do some drunken rendition of an eight year old pop song, and Gladio was dragged up to slur out some love ballad that he directed at Prompto. He tripped over his own feet midway through the set and even though it was at his expense, Gladio enjoyed the laughter that erupted in the small place. He especially liked the way that Prompto’s entire body seemed to light up, some of the strain that he had carried for years melting off if only for a few moments. 

He sloppily finished the song and stumbled back to his table. If the way Prompto was carrying himself was any indication, he was already doing a lot better than he had previously. When the night concluded and the two of them propped each other up on the way back to the caravan, the previous teasing kissing turned into heavy and heated rutting against each other. Gladio kept his thigh rooted firmly between Prompto’s legs, and the blonde wiggled and writhed until with a high-pitched moan he came. Gladio half used his hand, and let Prompto’s messy mouth-work bring him to completion. They lay on their backs, panting loudly. 

Gladio unceremoniously announced that he had to piss, and Prompto whined that he had to too. They took turns in the bathroom, and Gladio grabbed a washcloth and wet it. He slapped it flat against Prompto’s back, and howled with laughter and the screech that came from the smaller man. 

After he was done wiping the tear from his eye and made sure that his vision wasn’t still swimming, he took the cloth once more and dragged it leisurely across Prompto’s skin. Goosebumps arose directly following where the damp fabric had been, and the blonde shivered, turning his head over his shoulder to gaze up at Gladio. The shield swallowed thickly and finished his work with Prompto’s upper half. When his hand dipped lower to wash off the cum that stuck to the insides of Prompto’s thighs, he let himself linger there. Prompto gasped as the material came  _ so  _ close to his dick, the sensation overly sensitive skin having him tremble already. 

He couldn’t help himself as he latched his lips onto Prompto’s collarbone, and sucked and nipped the entire time he jerked Prompto off. Prompto’s back was plastered to Gladio’s broad chest, his head tipped back and mouth hanging wide open so that Gladio could hear each and every little sound the erupted from his mouth. 

Both of them were so tipsy that it didn’t last long, and Gladio cleaned him up just as he had before. He rinsed the cloth once and dragged it over himself quickly. Prompto had been dismissed back to bed, and he sleepily shuffled over to it even as Gladio finished his makeshift wash and wrung out the fabric for a last time before hanging it up to dry for the night. He was a little more hurried in his journey to the plush mattress, excited to not only cuddle up with his partner, but to also sleep for the next twelve hours or so. 

Prompto had positioned himself in the middle of the bed, and as soon as Gladio sat on the edge he already began the process of wrapping himself around the larger man. 

It took some maneuvering, but the two of them were finally situated, and after a few more minutes of quiet giggling and whispers, they finally calmed down enough to rest. As usual, Prompto was asleep long before Gladio could truly unwind. 

There were a lot of things that pressed at his mind, demanding attention and uneasiness, but the alcohol made it a lot harder for these thoughts to fully form, and he could push them away easily. There were a few strips of moonlight that trickled in from the window blinds, and the long stripes helped to illuminate Prompto’s flushed cheeks, still dusted with freckles. 

Before all this, Gladio couldn’t even begin to count how many there were, and he had tried. Ignis had fared far better than he with this task, reporting to he and Noctis exactly how many he had tallied. Gladio believed him; the advisor to the prince was normally correct. 

During one of their many nights spent around the campfire, Gladio had spied Noctis staring very pointedly at Prompto’s face while the blonde flicked around on his phone, crying out triumphantly when he had won one of his games, and immediately startling when he had caught Noctis’s unblinking gaze. 

“ _ W-What are you doing? _ ” he’d asked, already blushing and tittering nervously. 

“ _ Trying to figure out if I can kiss all of your freckles or not. I think I can do it, _ ” Noctis had reported bluntly. Prompto had laughed and punched Noctis on the arm, causing the two of them to start wrestling around the fire. 

Ignis had chided them, but Gladio rumbled for him to just let it happen. _“If they set themselves on fire maybe they’ll learn a lesson,”_ he’d said, and Ignis had chuckled, though Gladio knew he was still on edge, ever their caretaker. 

Gladio wondered as he finally drifted asleep if Noctis had ever managed to accomplish his goal. 

The next morning they found themselves so intertwined, it took Gladio’s hungover and sleep-addled brain a few seconds to discern where he ended and Prompto began. One of Prompto’s arms was wrapped around Gladio’s, and the blonde’s entire torso rested on his own. Prompto’s other arm was trapped between the two of them, and he snickered thinking of when Prompto actually awoke and would discover that he couldn’t feel the limb. His sardonic laughter subsided quickly when he saw how Prompto’s face was tucked into his neck, the man breathing softly and so sweetly. Gladio tried to untangle their legs without waking him before he got any ideas. 

He had almost succeeded when there came a loud and furious knock on their caravan’s door. Prompto bolted upright, immediately squealing when the pinpricks in his still slumbering arm turned violent. Gladio rose from the bed quickly, barely remembering to put on a pair of underwear as he approached the door cautiously. 

“Guys, it’s Cindy! Cor’s pullin’ in, so hurry on out here!” 

Gladio’s head snapped back as Prompto called out, “Cor’s  _ here?! _ ” Gladio couldn’t help but smile at the look on his face, and Prompto rushed to pull on his jeans and boots, not bothering to tie the laces or to make sure his tank top covered his hips before he was running down the caravan steps and flung himself outside. 

Amicitia himself had set to dressing, though he was a few steps behind Prompto despite the minute head start. As he stepped outside he realized he had to squint, and his expression turned sour when he realized that they had missed precious daylight already. 

In the short distance, he saw Prompto jogging to a sleek, black car that had just parked, and the Immortal himself stepped out from behind the wheel. Gladio watched as Prompto finally reached him and flung himself towards the older man, Cor catching him with ease. If he didn’t know any better, he might’ve thought that there was a large smile on the marshal’s face. As it was, he wasn’t entirely sure the man’s facial muscles could make such an expression. But if anyone could wring one out of him, it would be Prompto. Surely, though, he wasn’t the only one questioning the sheer joy that Cor exhibited upon seeing him. That wasn’t Gladio’s business, and he mused somewhat bitterly, nor was it anyone else’s. 

Cid strode up to them, Cor set Prompto down, and Gladio arrived on the scene right after. The elderly mechanic shook Cor’s hand, and Cor placed his other on their shake. Gladio went in for a hug, and Cor—though stiff—accepted the embrace, patting him once on the back before Gladio released him. From there, Cor and Prompto seemed to be attached at the hip. Cid tried to shoo Prompto off, but the blonde wouldn’t budge. “Let Cor drop off his bags, I’m sure he doesn’t want you pestering him.” 

Prompto pouted, and Cor put a hand on his shoulder. If someone wasn’t looking at the move, they wouldn’t have seen Cor squeeze and move his fingers ever-so-slightly closer to Prompto’s exposed collarbone. But Gladio was watching, and he did see it. 

“It’s quite alright, Cid, though I am grateful for you allowing me to stay here.” 

“It’s not a problem, Marshal. We’re happy to have you, and I believe I owe you some gratitude for being willin’ to help out.” 

The two older men chatted, and when Gladio looked over again, he noticed that Prompto couldn’t take his lovely lavender eyes off of Cor. Gladio didn’t realize he had been staring for so long until Prompto finally returned his gaze, tilted his head and fixed him with a small grin. Gladio blinked quickly, clearing his throat and turning his head away. He peeked back as Prompto nudged him and kept his voice low as he stated, “You didn’t tell me he was coming.” 

“How do you know that I knew?” 

“Well, you sure didn’t seem surprised to see him.” 

Gladio could perhaps keep up the charade, but Prompto knew him too well, and he was too whipped to lie to him. “He wanted it to be a surprise. He thought you’d be excited to see him.” 

Prompto hummed thoughtfully. “I guess he was right.” 

_ I guess he was,  _ Gladio thought to himself. 

Their small group made quick work of dropping the single suitcase Cor had packed in his —personal—caravan. Not that there really would have been room to house him in their trailer, but Gladio was thankful that at least he didn’t have to bunk with the same man that adored Prompto. 

Soon after the quick task was taken care of, they were off to Takka’s diner for lunch and to strategize. 

Finally Gladio allowed himself to relax around the Immortal. Talking about slaying daemons was a neutral enough topic, and one that Cor devoted himself to entirely, leaving him no time to clasp Prompto’s hand in his own and thread their fingers together like Gladio was doing. Both of them used one hand each to point to whatever they needed, keeping their clasped appendages beneath the table, away from prying eyes. If anyone asked about it, Gladio would’ve happily shown off the display of affection, probably a little too happily considering who was sitting across from them. 

“It’s about an hour’s car ride outside of Hammerhead, maybe a little more,” Cor began. 

“Not if you’re really gunning it,” Gladio joked. 

“Inadvisable,” Cor the Humorless retorted. “There being two of them and only three of us is doable. However I would feel much safer if there was a fourth person who could join us.”

Cid said, “There’s no one I can spare, I’m sorry,” just as Prompto muttered “I wish Ignis was here.” Gladio tightened his grip by a smidge and loosened immediately, just enough to let Prompto know that he was there for him. The look in Cor’s eyes was something of concern before he shed it in favor of remaining stoic. 

“Gladio and Prompto, you will need to distract one while I take care of the other, that much is clear.” Gladio wanted to argue with that, wanted to say that  _ he  _ could fight a red giant by himself, but he kept his mouth shut. It would be a pointless fight. He and Prompto had been together for so long, and their fighting styles were leagues better compared to either of them comboing with Cor. Plus, the marshal had the blessing of Gilgamesh on his side. 

There was a sketched out map before them, with two red dots on the page, and little drawings of houses closeby. Hammerhead was towards the edge of the paper, and the little twisting and winding roads it took to get to the area were all labeled clearly. 

All said, there wasn’t much to talk about. Cor would take one out, and Gladio and Prompto could easily take care of the other. They outnumbered the daemons in both strength and personage, and when they were all fully healed and rested up there would be no contest. 

Of course, then they needed to take into account the other ghoulies that would’ve shown up in their absence, enticed by the call of the giants to join up. The bastards had a nasty penchant for just that. Maybe it was something about their stink that called upon their dreadful minions, or maybe daemons just shared some awful hivemind. Whatever the reason, all the work that Gladio and Prompto had initially put in would undoubtedly have been erased since their last visit. 

Plans were solidified quickly after that, and it was decided that once Prompto and his wrist were in tip-top shape they would head out. The three of them expectantly turned to look at the blonde, who had had his eyes trained carefully on the map, chewing at his lip absently. After a beat or two he realized that they were all staring at him, and he startled. “Uh, yeah?” 

The Immortal—because who  _ else _ —was the first to ask, “How are you feeling?” 

Gladio expected Prompto to lie, and prepared himself to calmly drill into the other man to get his truthful answer. He was surprised when Prompto answered, “It still uh...I mean, everything still kind-of aches. I’m still pretty slow. Other than that I guess I’m alright.” He concluded with an apology, and even as Cor told him that there was nothing to state his remorse for, Gladio wanted to roll his eyes and grit out  _ You sure didn’t look that slow when you were sprinting for Cor earlier.  _ He smartly bit his tongue and reprimanded himself for even thinking that. 

“We’ll just leave tomorrow, it’s no issue. Get a good night’s rest and head out during the last hour of daylight.” Prompto nodded, and Gladio mimicked the motion a half-beat later. Cor made a short, harmonious noise while he considered, no doubt wondering if there was anything he was missing in all their careful strategizing. 

“Well, looks like everything’s set then,” Cid announced, Cor immediately snapping back to attention. Their sandwiches and chips had long since been consumed, and Prompto was the only one still nursing his beer. 

“Sure seems that way,” Cor was looking at Prompto again, and Gladio  _ did  _ roll his eyes when he saw the look on Prompto’s face. 

He knew they were just as nauseatingly sappy in public together, if not even more. Yet there was still something to be said about how the two of them were acting. 

It wasn’t exactly a secret that Cor and Prompto fucked, or loved each other or  _ whatever _ , but the Immortal had made it abundantly clear that it was only a  _ need to know  _ thing. And as far as nearly everyone else was concerned, they didn’t need to know. 

Still, Gladio had to remind himself that they rarely saw each other, and that it would be another long time before the three of them were grouped up again. Might as well enjoy the marshal’s company for the short time that it lasted. Gladio did truly like hanging out with the older man, when Prompto wasn’t there—or could at least restrain himself. 

There were several fond memories of them reading around the campfire, or lounging against wooden logs and reminiscing about battles past. There was even a time when Cor had been convinced to join a small card game tournament, and Gladio still chuckled about the look on his face when Cor realized he had lost about eighteen consecutive times. For a man that had such a terrific poker face, he had terrible luck. 

Gladio shook his head, and resolved to stop being such a bitter prick for the time being. 

Cid excused himself not long after, sliding carefully out of the booth. The way he moved betrayed his age, and Gladio felt a small tug at his heart upon realizing that his own father would’ve been getting up there in years were he still alive. Before he could get choked up about the matter, Takka was by his side and refilling their drinks. 

“So, tell me what you’ve been up to.” Gladio was almost sure that Cor was only talking to Prompto, but when he faced him, Cor was looking between the both of them. 

Prompto nudged him, and Gladio took that as his cue to begin. He started going on about some of the hunts that he’d undertaken recently, with Prompto chiming in whenever he had commentary, or explaining that he had been on a particular mission too. Gladio finished his stories, and Prompto began to recant his own. 

Cor listened intently to the two before him, nodding along and chuckling whenever one of them was telling something mildly funny. Prompto finished his last story, and they looked expectantly at Cor. He finished sipping his drink and regarded them calmly before shrugging. “I don’t have much to report. I lead a boring life.” 

“Bullshit!” Gladio barked. 

“Yeah, come on, you have to have  _ something,”  _ Prompto chimed in after. It might have been the combination of both their demands, but then again it may have just been the way Prompto looked crestfallen at Cor’s tight-lipness. 

“Alright, fine,” he conceded and pursed his lips. “I was contracted to hunt down a behemoth. It was young, though, didn’t put up much fight. The whole ordeal was over and done with almost as soon as it started.” 

“What, by yourself?!” Gladio was incredulous. Surely that was a tall tale even for the Immortal. 

“Six, no,” and Gladio calmed for a moment. “The guides lead me to its lair, I would’ve never found it myself.” Gladio felt his jaw drop, and a quick glance at Prompto revealed that he was in a similar position. Cor had a small smirk on his face as he took another long gulp of his beer. 

“You can’t just stop at ‘ _Oh I’m so cool I killed a freaking_ behemoth _all by myself! Haha!’”_ Prompto cried. Gladio couldn’t imagine having the balls to even try it, not to even mention the sheer incredible fortitude it would have taken to complete the task—no matter the amount of money he was being given. 

“Like I said, it was young. Probably half the size of an adult.” 

Gladio snickered. “Oh, don’t worry, Prompto, only half the size.” 

“Right, because behemoths are so small normally. Shiva’s tits, Cor—” 

“Watch the language, young man,” Cor cut him off, sending Prompto sputtering and shocking a laugh out of Gladio. Cor winked at the blonde, and finally Prompto smiled at the joke. “Truthfully though, it wasn’t that hard. I used a lot of fire bombs to trap it into a corner, and from there it all it took was some few swings of my sword. I never would’ve done it if it had been something more challenging.” 

“You’re a monster,” Prompto breathed. 

The rest of their afternoon was spent talking and drinking. Even though he was sipping at his slowly, Prompto’s cheeks began to flush around his fourth beer, but he still insisted on keeping up with the two other men at their table. 

Prompto choked on his drink when Cor mentioned something about ‘putting it inside him,’ and though a little bit dripped out of the side of his mouth, he cackled and nearly shouted “That’s what she said. He. That’s what he said.” This was when he was on his sixth beer. Gladio— only just beginning to feel the effects of it—roared and clapped him on the back. Cor looked around them, and was satisfied when he saw that no eyes were trained on them for their disturbance. The context in which he had initially spoken was completely nonsexual, but that mattered little to the two men whose alcohol-induced comical nature had reverted back to that of a pair of teenagers. 

They stayed there for so long that Takka came out with dinner, and Prompto stared at the piping hot meal for a moment before blurting out, “I have to piss.” Cor nodded, and Amicitia mumbled that he needed to do the same. With some help, Prompto slid out of the booth, and Gladio right after him. They had to walk past a few tables full of people, and midway through their journey Prompto saw someone he recognized, and plopped his forearms on their bar, ass sticking out right in front of Gladio. He swallowed, and greeted their friends as they noticed who was intruding on their meal. 

“Soooo,” Prompto elongated the vowel for a bit too long. “How are you guys doing?” They were friendly folk, and Prompto was visibly off his rocker. Gladio couldn’t wipe the grin off his face. Prompto kept talking and one of the women sitting grabbed Prompto’s hand, and he smiled widely. The little shit didn’t know how much of a flirt he was, always protesting that he wasn’t when the evidence was right there. The way the wide collar of his shirt was hanging off his shoulders, letting anyone who wanted get a clear view of his chest. The way he wiggled his hips and threw his head back when he laughed at something one of them said. Gladio shifted the way he stood and cleared his throat. 

“Oh, right. I was supposed to be going to the bathroom and umm…” Prompto looked at Gladio for help in sharing their next task.

“Dinner? Like you should be letting them eat?” 

Prompto stood up immediately, though he quite obviously regretted it when his vision and head swam from the motion. He stuck one hand out, and Gladio clasped his arm, steadying him. “Oh my gods I’m so sorry I’ll let you get back to that I’m sorry it was nice seeing you all have a good night!” Gladio guided him along gently as Prompto waved, sentences all melding together into what was probably barely cohesive. They were all good sports about it and said their pleasant farewells to them both. 

As soon as they entered the latrines, Prompto rushed over to the urinal. He untucked himself from his joggers and tilted forward, just barely catching himself on the wall. 

“You alright there?” 

It took a moment for Prompto to respond, but he finally nodded and gripped himself, pissing straight and true. Gladio watched him for another half second just to make sure, and relieved himself in the urinal next to him. The lighting in the bathroom was eerie, and whereas the diner had once been spotless and pristine, it was now dingy and riddled with graffitti. Phone numbers of people who were considered ‘easy’ were scribbled on the inside of the stalls, crude drawings of stick figures plowing each other on the toilet paper holders. Just once Gladio had found Prompto’s number on the inside of one of those dank and disgusting stalls, and after he had scribbled it out and left his initials in its place no one dared to repeat the action. The bulbs overhead were old and cast the room in a green hue that made Gladio sick. 

The diner in general was aging, but Takka did alright of keeping up on the general maintenance of it. This seemed like a completely different area though—just another example of how much things had changed. The porcelain urinal that Gladio was using was cracked, and he concentrated on that rather than the fact that this looked like a horror movie scenery. Prompto righted himself and tucked everything back how it should be, moving slowly over to the sink to wash his hands next. Gladio finished and joined him, where Prompto was still scrubbing at the backs of his hands. 

“It’s a dumb idea to try and drink out of the sink right?” 

Gladio snorted not unkindly. “Yeah, baby, it is. Let’s go back, we’ll order you some water.” 

“Okay,” he agreed easily and grabbed several paper towels. The way he dried was awkward and slow, but he got the job done eventually. He tried to throw the used napkins in the trashcan, and missed. Gladio caught the whiffed toss and dunked them in, and Prompto cheered. “Gladdy with the  _ assist! _ ” Gladio shook his head, though he couldn’t conceal his smile. Prompto was always a goof, alcohol flooding his system or not. 

The two of them managed to make it past the table containing their comrades without much incident, though Prompto almost steered himself towards them, but thought better of it when Gladio grabbed onto his hair. When they returned to their own booth, Prompto slid in next to Cor, drawing in close to him while still maintaining some personal space. Cor was surprised, but said nothing of it.

“You two sure took a while,” Cor remarked, though he wasn’t angry with either of them in the slightest. He casually slid his arm behind Prompto’s seat, the move possessive if subconsciously slow. Gladio stared at it for a moment before forcing himself to respond. 

“Blondie here found some friends,” Gladio said, and Prompto hissed at him for ratting him out.

“I’m thirsty,” he groaned, the slight against him quickly forgotten, and Gladio bobbed his head. 

“Right, I forgot.” He turned to Cor then and mouthed  _ No more beer for him.  _ Cor held up his fingers in the  _ okay  _ sign. 

“I guess that means I gotta get up,” Gladio griped half-heartedly. “Be right back, baby,” he told the lightweight across from him. Prompto slurred his ‘thank you’ and furrowed his brows before trying again—this time much more successfully, albeit much slower as well. He relaxed into the back of the seat, tilting his head backwards so that it rested against Cor’s bicep. 

They stayed in the diner for another while after that, though Prompto made several suggestions that the three of them  _ got out of there,  _ and Gladio was keen to agree even when Cor shot him down. Each time Prompto tried to whine and get Cor to sway his stance, Cor reminded them that they had a mission to carry out tomorrow. He didn’t mean to badger Cor about it, it simply seemed that each time he had forgotten he’d asked. Cor was gentle, voice kind and soft even if he did have to explain it a few times more than he had originally thought. As Prompto began to sober up slightly, his proposals ceased and their conversations became more normal rather than Gladio and Prompto nearly breaking down into tears and fits of laughter whenever they made an inappropriate joke. 

Gladio could feel his own buzz slipping away from him, and he debated over whether or not he could afford one last drink for the night. The decision was made for him when Takka brought over one last round for them, and Cor quietly told him that that was definitely enough for the night. Gladio was thankful for the marshal’s willpower at the very least. 

Nothing extravagant was happening at the diner that evening, and as the patrons began to dwindle, so too did Takka’s patience for the now loitering men. He kicked them out in as nice a way as you could tell someone to go home so you could clean up their mess. While Takka’s back was turned, all three of them threw gil onto the table and hurried out. Both Gladio and Prompto were still a little tipsy, Prompto concentrating hard on keeping his feet moving one before the other, and Gladio wanted to hump something desperately. Cor didn’t seem affected by any of the drinks, of course he didn’t. Gladio was almost afraid of what an actually drunk Cor would be like, though he very well may have actually seen it and just never known. The marshal was tricky like that. 

“Are you comin’ with us tonight?” Prompto turned on his heel quickly, and Gladio narrowed his eyes to make sure that he stayed on his feet despite the abrupt motion. He hiccuped, but was otherwise none the worse for wear. 

“I don’t think that’s a good idea, Prompto,” Cor replied tenderly. 

The hopeful look that was on the blonde’s face fell immediately, and Cor approached him, cupping his face in his hands and looking around before planting a kiss on his forehead. “You need rest, my dar—” he cut himself off with a quick throat clearing, and Gladio wondered if the abrupt end to that sentiment was for his sake. “You need rest, Prompto,” he tried again and Prompto let out a high pitched groan of displeasure. His hands were fisted in Cor’s jacket, and he pressed himself tightly to the man. Cor obliged him for a time, receiving Prompto’s kisses and returning them in kind. Gladio stood awkwardly, turning his attention to the warmth surrounding them even though the sun had long since set. There was a slight and pleasant breeze, and he closed his eyes and inhaled the earthy scent that accompanied them. It took some coaxing, but Cor eventually got Prompto to agree to taking a shower and going right to bed that night. “Once we take care of those giants we have all the time in the world.” 

Gladio didn’t want to remind them that no, they didn’t. Prompto was gullible enough to believe the Immortal. 

Prompto pushed himself up onto his toes and flung his hands around Cor’s shoulders, kissing him long and slow. Cor obliged him, and even gave the man a nip on his bottom lip before releasing him, and Prompto trudged off towards the caravan that Gladio and he shared. Gladio stood on one foot and used the other to scratch at his shin, looking only out of the corner of his eye at their activities until Prompto began walking off, and Gladio followed after, bidding Cor a goodnight. 

Cor stopped him, pulling him aside and keeping a firm grip on his bicep, letting Prompto walk up the trailer’s stairs slowly and throw himself onto the couch, watching him the whole while. “Make sure he just sleeps tonight. We have a treacherous day ahead of us tomorrow, and I need you both at your best.” 

The shield, emboldened at the proposition, retorted, “I have a hard time saying ‘no’ to him when he wants to fuck.” 

Cor didn’t even flinch at the argument, just blinked and responded slowly. “As do I, but please try your best. Sweet dreams.” And with that, he turned and headed to his own caravan. Gladio stared after him for a few seconds, swaying slightly. Though the day had been warm, the sun had long since set, and the breeze that had been comforting in the light had turned sharp and biting. Gladio shivered for the first time in a long while in the desert climate, and he had trouble discerning whether it was from the lowering temperature or something else entirely. 

Snapping himself out of it, he shook his head and headed inside, keen on a good wash and crawling into bed, planning on keeping a death-grip on Prompto for the night. 

When he shut the door behind him, he found the gunman still on the couch, head tilted back against the seat’s rest and eyes shut. Gladio nudged Prompto’s left foot with his own, and his eyes opened, regarding Gladio with an exhausted, glassy stare. 

“Yeah?” 

“Shower, then sleep.” 

“But I’m comfy.” Gladio sighed. He grabbed Prompto’s hands and pulled him towards himself with enough force that Prompto seemed to spring from his position and right into his chest. Prompto wrangled his hands free and pressed his face right between Gladio’s pecs, rubbing his face from side to side in a lazy form of motorboating. Gladio obliged him for a bit before he began to walk forward, and Prompto was forced to turn around and move with him lest he be bulldozed over. 

The water turned warm quickly, and the two men hopped in. Prompto took the soap first, and Gladio the shampoo. They traded as soon as they were done, and Gladio exited first and dried himself while Prompto conditioned, and hung his head beneath the cascading spritz. Gladio wrapped the towel around his waist and took a seat on the toilet. Prompto stayed motionless aside from the occasional sniff. Amacitia examined his nails and his lips stretched into a grimace when he realized that he needed to cut them very soon. Iris would never let him hear the end of it if he neglected what she considered to be among the easiest tasks of self care. 

He heard the water shut off, and Prompto opened the shower door, shaking his hair off before snagging his towel off the hook. Gladio forced himself not to look as Prompto dried himself so he couldn’t get any ideas—Cor’s strict orders still fresh in his mind. 

It didn’t take much time after that before they retired to the bedroom, hanging up the towels and trudging back. Gladio double-checked that the door was locked as Prompto rolled onto his side of the mattress, and Gladio quickly joined him. 

Prompto laid flat on his back and stared at the ceiling, still sniffling from the stark difference between the chilly air and hot shower steam. Neither of them said anything, and Gladio almost gave up entirely on any conversation before they drifted off to sleep. 

“I miss Ignis.” Prompto sounded choked up, and perhaps his sniffs couldn’t entirely be blamed on what Gladio had previously assumed. 

“I know, baby.” 

“I miss Noctis,” and this time Prompto’s voice cracked, and he let out a sob before stopping himself, wiping away a single tear before setting his brow and refusing to take off his eyes from the plaster above them. 

“I know, baby. I’m so sorry.” 

His words weren’t exactly comforting. Gladio never was good at that sort of stuff. Ignis would know what to do, how to take care of Prompto and ease his worries for a while. Noctis would do everything he could to cheer the blonde up. Even Cor, as emotionally stunted as he was, would have an easier time with this. And what could Gladio do? Nothing. 

Apparently nothing seemed to be enough because Prompto turned over and latched onto Gladio’s torso. Gladio held him tightly despite his guilt over his inadequacies, one hand around his waist and the other gripping his hair. Prompto’s eyes remained dry, but Gladio tried to get his mind off the topic before any more tears were shed. If the very least he could do for his sweet boy was to be there for him and hold him, then by the gods he’d do it. 

Five years they’d had to live without their prince. Prompto had lost his best friend, Ignis his soulmate. Gladio had tried to snap them both out of their grief by yelling at them, before Prompto had been reduced to a wailing mess, and Ignis was by his side, rubbing his back and glaring the best he could without his eyesight at Gladio. 

_ What on Eos gave you the idea that what would help? Either of us? Did it work when Noctis—when all of us lost Luna?  _

Gladio had been so ashamed of himself. He didn’t talk to either of them for several days when he went off on his own. Later he called them to apologize, and received the news that they too had split up. When he tried to make amends with Ignis, the bespectacled man reminded him harshly,  _ What would you feel if that was Prompto in that crystal?  _ Gladio nearly hung up there, hated the very thought of it and trembled with rage that Ignis would even mention something like that. But he understood the intent, and so he swallowed his pride and anger and admitted that he felt the sting of Noctis’s absence as well and he’d had no right to snap at the two of them like that. Ignis and Prompto forgave him, but the damage had been done. 

The three of them rarely saw each other anymore all together. Prompto and Gladio often found themselves in each other’s company, but they also spent quite a bit of time separated. It wasn’t by choice necessarily, but the three of them were some of the most qualified to take care of the daemons and help whatever outposts needed it. 

Ignis, however, distanced himself the most. He saw—or rather, Prompto saw  _ him _ —the blonde the most. Even that was rare. Back at Altissia he’d given everything to keep Noctis safe, and it was all for naught. 

So they spent their time waiting and dreading what was to come. Noctis may one day emerge from the crystal and bring an end to the everlasting darkness that plagued their world. Or there was the chance that he would stay tucked inside of it for eternity, leaving Ardyn to destroy their world with his daemon army, and no living person would ever see the sun again. 

That was all in the future, and if they died to those red giants tomorrow, then they didn’t need to worry about anything else, Gladio supposed. 

Now, though, the starchy sheets made his legs itch, and the heat radiating off of Prompto’s body wasn’t helping the alcohol-induced warmth that had already spread through his system. He didn’t mind; in fact, he welcomed the contact between the two of them happily. It reminded him that they were alive, even if it was just for now. He had Prompto, and he had Ignis, wherever he may be. He had Cor too, even if he was prone to jealousy. He had Iris, Cid and Cindy, Takka, and everyone else that cared for him in this world. It was enough for now. 

“In the morning, I’ll head down to the diner early and ask Takka to cook you up your favorite. Does that sound good?” 

Prompto hummed, one cheek nearly stuck to Gladio’s chest. “Onigiri and bacon?” 

“The very same. Even if it is real weird.” Gladio began to play with Prompto’s hair as he had done so many times. The wet locks were beginning to dry, and Prompto was sated. 

“Thank you,” he mumbled. For what, Gladio had no idea. But if Prompto was happy, then so was he. 

Bright and early, Gladio rose with a low groan. He peeled himself away from Prompto and as promised headed over to the restaurant. He relayed the desired dish, and told him there was a nice tip in it if Takka waited for an hour or so before preparing the meal. The cook rolled his eyes, but he knew that it wasn’t for Gladio—otherwise he most likely wouldn’t have agreed. 

He headed back to the caravan and was unconscious again before his head hit the pillow. His dreams were short and clipped, and as each rolled into the next he was left feeling more and more uneasy. Grotesque images that he couldn’t make out, horrible and ragged breathing on the back of his neck, feeling like he lost something but unable to decipher what. 

Prompto woke up first later, sitting up and yawning so hard his jaw was sore. Mercifully, he was free of any hangover, thankful for all the water he was forced to drink even if it did make him feel bloated before he relieved himself. Gladio entered the bathroom as he washed his hands, eyes closed and scratching at his stomach. Prompto put toothpaste on both their brushes, and handed Gladio his. In unison they worked to rid their mouths of the dreaded morning breath. 

As Prompto rubbed his eyes, Gladio rumbled out, “You worried about later?” 

Prompto squinted at him. “Are you?” 

Gladio considered answering him. “I asked you first.” Prompto wrinkled his nose before yawning once again. 

“A little. I feel a lot better now that we have Cor with us. We could’ve done it the first time if we weren’t so wiped out.” Knowing him, he was probably thinking that their retreat had been his fault, though he wisely kept those thoughts private and unspoken. Gladio probably would’ve smacked him lightly on the head for daring to speak ill of himself. 

Due to how small the room was, when they turned to face each other they were nearly touching chest-to-chest. Gladio quelled his desires into one kiss to Prompto’s forehead that perhaps lasted a bit too long, but Prompto said nothing, only wrapping his arms around Gladio’s wait. 

Everything they wanted to say could remain in their own minds. They used to be more verbally affectionate, but there was no need to anymore until after a mission was completed.  _ It feels too much like we’re saying goodbye,  _ Prompto had once confessed, and Gladio knew that he was right. They were both acutely aware of just how tremendously they cared for each other, and they knew to be careful. 

So Prompto released Gladio, and the shield took a step back, crossing his arms and watching Prompto style his hair. The marksman stuck his tongue out in the reflection, catching Gladio’s eye. Gladio made a face back and headed back towards the bedroom to collect his outfit and dress. As soon as Prompto was ready he did the same, taking his time and making sure his laces were tight enough and that his bracelets were all snapped neatly in place. He had leggings on, a jacket tied ‘round his waist, and a classic tank top accented with the bandana he tied on his right arm. He looked perfect, and Gladio was worried for him—just as he always was. 

Realistically, he knew that everything would be fine. He knew his skill, and Prompto’s and Cor’s as well. This didn’t stop the anxious feeling from rising in his gut, the overarching sense of dread that always came with a mission like this. Back in his youth he might have let this affect his mood, but now he knew how better to train himself. Forced smile, keep it upbeat. They had this. They’d take out those big sons of bitches and send them right back to hell. 

Prompto looked at him expectantly, and Gladio realized with a start that he had been staring at the pale yellow plaster wall for a good while. He blinked and stood. 

“Breakfast?” Prompto bobbed his head and they exited the caravan together. 

The moment they showed their faces, Takka disappeared into the back, and came back right as they took their seats at the countertop. It was stained and ragged with use. Somehow Takka’s pride and joy had become a little more decrepit with the passing years. It was understandable. Not much room for an interior design profession when everyone was just struggling to survive. 

Takka set two plates of onigiri and bacon before them. Prompto’s eyes lit up, and they thanked the older man. They finished their meals quickly, and had a little time to kill before they needed to begin prep work for the day. Prompto sipped his coffee and grimaced. Sugar was a bit of a rare commodity these days. He poured more cream in the bitter brew and Gladio fought back a laugh as once again he seemed morose while taking a drink. Gladio had always drunk his black and sweetless, preferring to chug it and feel the rush of energy rather than let it idle on his tongue. 

“How are you feeling today?” 

“A lot better. My wrist doesn’t hurt anymore, and taking a breath doesn’t feel like I’m going to die.” The answer was sincere enough, and Gladio was satisfied. 

“You promise you’re good?” 

“Promise.” 

They left it at that. 

Cid came looking for them just as he had promised the day before, and he had something tucked into his back pocket. Gladio had a good idea of what it was, but he kept his small grin to himself as he waited for the mechanic to make it known. He greeted Takka, who once again ran to the back kitchen to fetch his breakfast. Cid slid next to Prompto, and croaked out “Mornin’.” 

“Hey, Cid.” Prompto said, and Gladio nodded in welcome. 

Quickly again did Takka appear, and he put down the morning’s special before Cid, along with one of the few remaining Ebony coffees that he had tucked away in the back. Both Cid and Ignis craved the stuff, though this was more a testament to how much of an old man the advisor was rather than anything on Cid’s part. 

“Got somethin’ for you, kid,” he said easily and brought out the weapon he’d had tucked into his pants. It was wrapped in an old, greasy cloth, and he didn’t bother to unfold it before handing it over. Prompto tore into it like it was a birthday present, and when he saw what lay inside the shoddy wrapping, he gasped loudly. 

He picked the golden colored sidearm carefully and gaped open-mouthed at it. Gladio was definitely more than a little impressed with it. 

It was a beautiful piece, and as Cid had engraved gladiolus flowers into Gladio’s sword, he had carved beautiful vines with tiny buds into the grip and along the barrel. It was a revolver similar to what Prompto had been carrying for years, but this one was so much more personalized and lovingly crafted than any of his others had been. There were little golden leaves that served only as decoration behind the cylinder. The trigger guard had one small vine wrapping around it, and the grooves only served to make it easier to handle. Prompto was agape and surprised, it was easy to tell. 

While Prompto was distracted, Gladio leaned back behind him and tapped Cid’s shoulder to get his attention. He very quietly whispered, “What happened to the rifle?” and Cid shrugged. 

“Damn thing needs more work. I got these scraps and it was too good to pass up.” Gladio leaned forward again, sated. He looked at Prompto once more, and the mystified and elated expression still hadn’t left his face. He abruptly turned to Cid and set the gun down gently before bringing in the man for a hug. 

“Thank you! Thank you oh, Six, thank you I love it!” 

Gladio was honest to gods touched at how sweet Prompto somehow still managed to be. His raw enthusiasm and kindness hadn’t withered in the harsh world they were living in, and damn. It really was easy to forget how young he was. 

Cid withstood the affection, keeping his grumbles and complaints to a minimum as he patted Prompto on the back and nearly had to pull himself away and tell Prompto to shut his trap before the younger man finally settled down. He carefully tucked the piece into his belt, and Cid snatched the cloth he had used as a cover back. 

“It’s a lot more inconvenient to carry weapons around since we don’t have the armiger,” Prompto lamented, mostly to Gladio, who nodded in agreement. Cid chimed in with a snort and muttered something about  _ youth these days.  _

The coot took his time eating, and Gladio could see the chills running down Prompto’s spine and the way he had to bite his tongue to avoid saying something he’d regret about the way the old man smacked his lips while he ate. He had just given Prompto an incredible present after all. Cid finished eventually, much to Prompto’s relief. They all finished their coffee, and Cid left them to go and collect anything else that they’d need for their journey. 

After they slaughtered the daemons, they were supposed to make a small supply drop off to the outpost until they felt safe enough to travel. Food, ammo, and medicine were all going to be stuffed into the trunk of the vehicle they’d be taking, and Cid needed to make sure they were stocked up on potions just in case. 

Cor’s, Gladio’s and Prompto’s responsibilities right up until they left were actually very limited. Make sure that they were ready to go and in good shape, take care of their own weapons and anything else they wanted. 

“Dawn” had broken just a little while before they got up, and at eleven in the morning, they had about two hours to go before nightfall. The thought always made Gladio a little sick. 

“You wanna go try that thing out?” He suggested instead, and Prompto immediately launched from the counter. 

“Yes!” he announced with a pump of his fist, and Gladio chuckled. 

“Let’s go get Cor. He’ll probably want to freshen up, and I’m feeling like a little sparring would be good.” Prompto’s eyes widened with each word, and his nodding became more frenzied. Gladio was making him wait, and he made sure that Gladio knew it. 

It was Prompto’s turn to throw some gil on the counter as they made their escape, and Gladio offered to go get Cor while Prompto ran off to the target range. Prompto didn’t need the offer to be made twice, just bounded off in the direction of the distraught-looking mannequins in the distance. 

The area technically wasn’t in the safe confines of Hammerhead. The base was big, but the range was too far away and too unimportant to waste resources protecting. It made sense that it was at such a great distance. No one wanted to be disturbed or deafened by gunshots right behind the garage. Despite the reasoning behind it, Gladio did hate how far away Prompto was going to be away from him even if it was just for a few minutes. 

He reminded himself that Prompto had his new gun and was more than capable of taking care of himself. It was daylight, and Prompto would be fine. 

_ Wasn’t it daylight when he was taken by Ardyn last?  _

Gladio nearly snarled at himself to avoid reliving that memory. Less than a year ago the fucking  _ monster  _ had scooped the blonde off while no one was looking, and deposited him back the next day. Prompto didn’t want to talk about it, but he told Gladio the details once. Gladio wanted nothing more than to personally rip out Ardyn’s throat with his teeth. 

Somehow his feet had brought him right in front of Cor’s trailer door without him noticing, and his hand had already balled itself into a fist so that he could rap it against the wood that separated them. 

Before he could command himself to perform the motion, Cor opened the door, and Gladio nearly punched the man’s broad chest on accident before he stopped himself. 

“Gladio,” Cor said formally and Gladio nodded. 

“That’s me.” 

The question probably didn’t need to be asked, not because the answer was obvious but because it was so predictable coming from Cor that Gladio could’ve answered it before the words passed the other man’s lips anyway. 

“Where’s Prompto?” 

“Already at the practice range. I was gonna to ask you if you wanted to spar before we set off. Get those aging bones moving.” 

Cor fixed him with a look that said he wasn’t overly happy with Gladio’s light banter, but the shield would have been damned before he could wipe the smile off his face. 

“Yes,” Cor finally responded. “Let me get my sword and I’ll meet you both out there.” 

Gladio was about to say something, but Cor quickly closed the door in his face. He didn’t find it rude, it was just how the marshal was. He stuttered back, and headed towards his own shack, grabbing his weapon and strapping it to his back before taking off towards the range. 

True to his word, Prompto was there. He held the gun out with one hand, concentrating on the straw man nearly fifty yards away. Prompto himself was barely more than an elongated speck with limbs to Gladio even as he kept jogging. He could see Prompto turn to face him, and Gladio could finally start making out details. The blonde waved before returning to his former position, aiming, and taking a breath. He fired right as Gladio was about ten feet away, and even the large man had to keep himself from flinching at the sound ricocheting off the desert floor and rocks around them. Gladio brought his sword to his side, letting it rest against a stone carefully as he took a seat on it and just watched for a few minutes. 

It was hard to tell, but each time Prompto aimed and fired, rotating between different positions and ways of holding the gun, off in the distance the mannequin trembled and a plume of dust rose off of it. Gladio clapped for each shot landed, and Prompto turned back to him with a grin after a few tries. 

“Okay, watch this.” Gladio nodded faithfully, and Prompto turned all the way to face him, lifting his arm over his head and folding it back down at the elbow so that his hand was behind his back, and his arm rested against his dome. He held his gun upside down and Gladio grew concerned. 

Prompto seemed to be aligning the shot, but it was hard to tell what with him facing the wrong direction and all. He took one more inhale, and as he exhaled, he pulled the trigger, and Gladio leaned to the side to see behind Prompto. 

This time there had been no rattling of the stick the mannequin was placed on, and no shower of grime filling the air around it. 

“You missed,” Gladio informed him. 

Prompto turned to see for himself, then back around again. “Yeah, I’m not surprised. That would’ve been real cool if that’d worked though.” Gladio laughed, and spooked when he heard someone clearing their throat behind them. 

Even Prompto who had been looking in the general direction seemed startled for a brief instant before he smiled. 

“Hey, Cor.” 

Ah, there he was. 

“Just what did you think you were doing?” 

Prompto’s easy joy turned into a sheepish look, and his lips turned into a nervous smirk. “Uh, practicing?” 

Cor shook his head and looked at Gladio. “You encouraged this?” Gladio held up his hands in false surrender, shaking his head. Cor closed his eyes pointedly and took a long second to himself before he could look at Prompto again. “That’s not a toy, Prompto. Please try and treat it with more respect.” 

Prompto looked like he wanted to argue. He knew that it wasn’t a toy, and absolutely  _ hated  _ that Cor told him off. Instead he turned his eyes to the ground and glowered at it like it was the desert’s fault that he had been goofing off. Gladio sighed and stood up as Cor dropped the bag he was carrying, squatting down next to it. Gladio made his way over to Prompto and tousled his hair, Prompto batting him off sourly. 

“Boys, enough,” Cor demanded, still preoccupied with his bag and having no way of knowing what they had been doing unless he had eyes in the back of his head. 

Realistically speaking, he probably did. 

Still, he didn’t sound annoyed or angry with either of them, and Prompto finally relaxed a bit. Cor was wearing tight jeans and a v-neck shirt, his combat boots over his pant legs and the laces looped around his ankles before being tied. It was a good look for the Immortal, if a little similar to Gladio’s. Cor rose again, holding a small shield that he tossed to Gladio, and a smaller and plain sword. He motioned for Prompto to come forward, and the younger nearly tripped over himself to listen to his cue. 

“Now if I hand you this, you won’t fling it somewhere because you think it’ll look cool?” 

His head was tilted, and there was a smirk on his face. 

“Look at that, you do have a sense of humor,” Gladio said, just to clarify. Cor snickered, and Prompto rolled his head back and bucked his knees. 

“Yes, I’ll be careful with it.” Cor turned the blade towards himself, holding onto the sharp end so that Prompto could grab onto the hilt. Prompto curled his fingers around the piece, and Cor let go immediately and took a couple steps back. Prompto swung it in front of him with his left hand, tucking the firearm back into his belt before switching his sword to his right hand. He swung once— mindful of those close to him—a long and slow angle in the air by his legs. 

“Will it work?” 

“Yeah, I guess. But why?” 

The marshal used a cloth that he’d probably borrowed from Cid to wipe his hands, and pulled his katana. “Because you’re going to practice with it today.” 

Prompto was obviously incredulous. “I just got this new gun from Cid though and—” 

Cor cheekily tapped Prompto’s sword with his own, nearly knocking it out of his loose grip. “Less talking, more you and Amicitia coming at me.” 

Gladio wasn’t sure that Prompto had even held a sword since he’d officially become a kingsglaive, let alone fought with one. At the mention of his name, though, he perked up, and gritted his teeth with his lips spread—a vicious and sadistic smile. 

“You got it, old man.” 

He charged first, taking a wide step to Cor’s left before swinging at him, and Cor blocked it lazily. After a few more attacks, Prompto finally got with the program. 

They danced around the marshal, darting in and trying to take him unawares. Prompto’s blade was almost certainly dulled, but Gladio’s and Cor’s undoubtedly remained deadly. It was laughable for a time, how easily he was evading them with only his blocks and dodges. Gladio and Prompto pulled a move where they ran at him from opposite sides, but Cor jumped back, and Prompto managed to catch himself before Gladio ran into him, but the larger man had a harder time, throwing his weight onto one foot and kneeling quickly. Cor hummed. 

“Alright, Gladio, just you now.” 

This was when Gladio actually started having fun. Without having to worry about accidentally hitting Prompto, Gladio was able to attack harder, faster. Cor’s simple and bored parries quickly became attempted blows of his own. The two men went at each other, Gladio cackling wildly whenever he  _ almost  _ had the marshal, but when Cor nearly bested him he was silent, composed as ever. Gladio used his shield less for blocking, and more as a way to charge or to use as a battering ram. Cor was never thrown off by it, and he contested Gladio easily. 

After some amount of time, neither gained any ground, and Gladio had broken into a sweat and a light pant. Cor seemed fine, but his chest was rising and perhaps a smidgen faster than normal. 

“Your turn, Prompto,” Cor announced without any warning, and Gladio whipped around to face the blonde. Prompto was in the middle of twirling his sword in his hand, surprise etched into his features as he looked up. 

He said nothing as he took Gladio’s place, and Gladio helped himself to one of the water bottles he’d seen peeking out of Cor’s bag, uncontested in his actions. He took up his perch on the rock he’d been on, and took a long gulp as he kept his eyes affixed on the scene before him. Prompto spun the sword in his hand, and Gladio was impressed with the way he could still handle the weapon. The sun was high in the sky, and in less than an hour they’d have to run back to the car and set out. He already felt sticky and disgusting, their practicing unsettling the dirt, and the dry breeze carried it onto his dampened skin. 

Gladio hadn’t known what he was expecting of their parlay, but it wasn’t for Cor to spring towards Prompto, and hack at him as harshly as he was. A protest rose in his throat, or perhaps it was a cry of warning, but he realized that he didn’t need to do anything. 

For as wildly as Prompto handled himself normally, watching him in battle was something else. Even though he was just a marksman, he handled himself with such grace it was almost like he was a different person entirely. Cor swung, and Prompto  _ danced  _ out of Cor’s reach. 

In his very early days, Gladio had seen Prompto fight with Cor only once. It hadn’t gone well, and Cor had had Prompto down on the mat in five seconds flat. Soon after Prompto had switched to using firearms in training, and Gladio assumed that had been the end of Prompto’s swordsman training. It appeared then though that he was wrong. Cor lurched forward again, and Prompto brought his blade up, stopping the other weapon in its tracks. With a flip, Prompto’s blade was out of his hand, and he caught it again, extending his arm forward straight. Cor blocked, and Gladio whistled. 

The way that Prompto handled his blade was nothing short of spectacular. Whereas Gladio had been about trying to overwhelm his enemy, using strength combined with acute response times, Cor was adaptive, waiting for an opportunity to strike, smart and calculative. Prompto though, Prompto was  _ water.  _ He could duck and weave, his lithe form moving with a fluidity that Gladio had rarely ever seen before. His fancy tricks with twirling his sword were not only timed perfectly, but they served as a distraction to the eye, making it impossible to discern exactly how he was going to move and when. 

Cor was a master swordsman, and there was no way that he would’ve lost to Prompto were they trying to actually defeat each other, but their sparring was incredible. Gladio hadn’t  realized exactly how long he had been staring at them until Cor stopped them, and pointed to the sky. 

“Time to pack it up. Good job, both of you.” He produced two more plastic bottles, keeping one for himself, and tossing the other to Prompto. The blonde twisted it open, drinking greedily. Cor placed his katana back into the duffle bag and zipped it, slinging it over his shoulder and dusting himself off. “So what do you think?” Cor began, and Gladio’s attention was placed on him, even if  he wasn’t talking to the shield. “Do you want to use that tonight against the giants?” 

The question was a curveball. Nothing in their initial outline of action suggested anything that would even remotely work with Prompto’s blade being added into the mix. Gladio was even further surprised with the fact that the sword wasn’t dulled. They’d all been practicing with impossibly sharp weapons. It was a wonder that one of them hadn’t accidentally chopped off a limb. 

Evidently Gladio missed the joke, because Prompto laughed and shook his head. “No, I’m good. Cid just gave me a new present.” He took it out and cradled it, holding it out for Cor. The marshal glanced down and nodded. 

“He showed it to me already. It’s lovely. And it suits you.” Prompto beamed, the obviously flirtatious comment not going over his head. 

Suddenly Gladio became restless, and before he could stop himself he blurted out, “Have you seen my sword?”

Cor’s eyebrow raised, but he still took the question seriously. “No, I have not. Show me.” Gladio felt woefully inadequate as he held out his weapon for Cor’s inspection, and the older man took it, tracing along the flowers the matched Prompto’s engravings, his expression unchanging. He handed it back, and nodded. “It’s very nice as well. Cid’s outdone himself for you both.” Gladio was satisfied with the remarks, and together the three of them made their way back to Hammerhead. 

Cid was waiting by their car for them, the trunk already packed and gear shoved into the backseat. There were a few more potions than they had discussed taking, and Gladio knew that they were there just a precaution, but he still didn’t like the implication. 

“Y’all better get goin’. There’s an hour of daylight left if we’re lucky, and you still need to set up out there.” 

There wasn’t much ‘setting up’ to do, but no one said anything. Cor thanked him as Prompto climbed into the passenger seat of the car, taking Cor’s bag from him and placing it on top of the box that held the other items they needed. Gladio threw his sword in before him and sat himself in the middle of the back row, tugging on Prompto’s shirt as punishment for simply jumping in without first calling his usual  _ shotgun!  _ Cor walked around the front of the car and seated himself behind the wheel, looking over at the two of them once he was buckled. They waited for him to say something, but he tilted his head, and Prompto immediately scrambled to fasten his belt, Gladio doing the same right after. Pleased, Cor asked them if they were ready, and they both called out that they were indeed. 

Without any further ado, Cor pulled out of their parking spot, and rolled out onto the road. 

Prompto asked if they could open up the roof of the car, and Cor considered for a moment before wordlessly pressing the button that folded the top part of the vehicle and brought it to rest behind Gladio’s seat. Prompto talked to Gladio in the back seat, rotating his body so that he could look at the other man easier, and Gladio leaned forward as best as he could with his lap belt restricting him. 

At one point Prompto undid his seatbelt, no doubt intending to turn and face Gladio completely, hugging the headrest and resting on his knees while the rest of them prayed that nothing happened on the road that could cause him harm. As soon as he tried to lift himself up though, Cor grabbed onto his his pants and pulled them  _ down,  _ effectively putting him right back into his seat. He took his eyes off the road only for a second to glare at Prompto, and the younger man laughed nervously and decided that talking to Gladio through the gap between his chair and Cor’s was satisfactory enough. 

They arrived at the small rest stop that they’d visited at the beginning of this mission in just under fifty-five minutes. The last rays of the sun were rapidly evading sight, and would soon completely dip below the horizon line. Gladio began to grow impatient, his nerves getting the better of him as he jittered with every movement. He strapped his sword to his back once more, and placed two elixirs into his pack. Cor and Prompto set to gathering their things, and Prompto swore quietly. 

“I forgot my holster,” he reported and sighed, but Cor placed a hand on his shoulder, reaching into his bag and brought out a nice new black leather one. It was by no means fancy, but it sure was shiny. 

“Cid told me to give this to you as well. He said he noticed that your other one was wearing out.” 

Two presents in one day. Just how many sugar daddies was Prompto going to acquire? 

Prompto hooted, and made quick work of strapping the item around his thigh, placing his gun into it delicately and clicking it in. “I mean, he was right, but damn is this thing nice. I’ll just put the one Iggy gave me somewhere safe.” Neither Cor nor Gladio had taken their eyes off of Prompto as he had completed the task, the way he had bent over wasn’t necessary, but the sight of him sure was appreciated. Gladio’s gaze met Cor’s after, and they abruptly looked away again. Cor threw on a light jacket that he had brought, and Prompto passed out their much-needed lights. 

Finally they were ready, and it was officially night time. They trudged out past the relative safety of the aging street lamps, and their chest flashlights clicked on automatically. The moon was still small, early in its monthly phase. There were few stars, but the night was already better illuminated than it had been a few days ago. 

When they arrived at the location that Gladio had burned into his memory, they stood alert and waiting. The sky was a dark, inky green that made the whole world seem ill. The nice breeze that had been present not long ago during the day was gone, leaving the air still and suffocating. Gladio drew his sword, Prompto had his fingers drumming the handle of his firearm, and Cor had one hand over his shoulder near his sheath. They stood there, and they waited for the slightest movement that would give them cause to attack. 

Gladio was itching, impatient. He jerked at the slightest rustle of a bush, and twitched when Prompto coughed. It was taking too long, too  _ fucking  _ long. 

He didn’t have to wait much longer to get his wish, and a few goblins rose out of the ground. It was unlike them to be in an area such as this—they preferred sticking closer to settlements and terrorizing anyone who stepped even a foot out of line—but the giant’s power lurking just out of their current reach gave the small daemons confidence, and they flung themselves towards the waiting party. 

The little bastards were tough for their size, scratching and biting when they were allowed near enough. Prompto cried out once when a riled up one clawed at his leg, and Cor quickly sliced through it. 

One leaped for the marshal, and Gladio plucked it from the air. It struggled in his grasp, and he tossed it into the air, swinging his sword like a baseball bat that could cut through anything. The goblin was no more, and Gladio could hear Prompto yell “Style points for Gladdy!” before putting a bullet right between the eyes of one. 

Goblins weren’t a difficult enemy, but they always traveled in packs, and they wasted time taking them all out. “How are we feeling?” Cor inquired, examining each of his partners. 

“Never better,” Gladio replied, and Prompto flashed a thumbs up. Cor began to question about Prompto’s leg, but he stopped before he could utter anything further. 

Gladio could hear the earth rumbling behind him, and he soon felt it. Small pebbles bounced, and the cracks in the earth shuddered as the giants they had come out there for sprouted up. They seemed even larger than before, angrier too. They’d gone unchecked for too long, gotten too comfortable there. They were growing and would be even stronger with the smaller daemons that flocked around them.

Sure enough, more goblins approached, their snapping noises too close for comfort. Gladio turned, and near where the giants were materializing, three thunderbombs crackled. Any earlier confidence Gladio had held was disappearing, and pure instinct was kicking in with a flood of adrenaline. He was a daemon hunter, and he would slaughter each and every one of these things that dared show their faces. 

Cor spoke, his voice low. “Gladio, the thunderbombs. Prompto, take out as many goblins as you can. I’ll distract the big ones.” The three of them understood their roles perfectly, and they waited for the signal. The giants saw them then, and roared. 

“Go!” Cor shouted, and they did. 

Prompto took off running and slid through the group of goblins, his momentum knocking them to the side and laying them prone long enough that his expert targeting could take out several of them in one fell swoop. He darted out before they could swarm him, and shrieked as he ran away, several of them bounding after him like rabid dogs. He was fine though, if overdramatic. Each shot that rang off from his piece was a bullet in the head of one of those daemons. 

Gladio wasted no further time heading after the electric bombs. They were several lengthy strides away from the giants, and even further away from where Prompto was performing lethal crowd control. 

_ We have this _ he told himself as he swung. The blade connected with one of the balls, and it sparked angrily. 

The hard part wasn’t defeating the creatures. The hard part was taking them out before they exploded and lay waste to the area around them. Gladio and Prompto had both been hit with their shockwave before. Their toasted near-corpses had to be dragged back to camp and it took several days to recover. Not a fun time. 

His race against the clock proved fruitful against one of the purple daemons, the monster letting out a high pitched frequency as it perished. He made quick work of the second one, and whirled around right as the third one was gaining mass. He didn’t have enough time to deal that damage. He struck once, then twice, and still it grew. He took a moment to pray to the Six as he brought the blade down upon it once more. 

It still wasn’t enough. He was about to blow this entire mission, and their lives because he couldn’t take out a damn  _ thunderbomb.  _ Before he even had time to blink or will his arms into moving once more, a bullet blew past him, and hit the bomb. It screamed and died, and Gladio finally got the opportunity to blink. Prompto smiled at him and twirled his gun on his finger before being tackled to the ground by a goblin. Gladio frantically ran back over, and pulled the beast off of him. He stomped it down, heavy boot holding its chest to the ground, and Prompto recovered quickly, scrambling to stand up and finally shoot it dead. 

Finally, the two of them had finished their assigned tasks. There was a magnificent groan behind them, and they both turned to watch as Cor darted between the two giants, letting the two of them crash into each other. It was reminiscent of the move that he had pulled when the three of them had been sparring, though this time it worked a lot better. 

Though Cor seemed to be holding his own, he still called out, “A little help, boys?” And they spurred into action. Gladio picked one of the giants and slashed its calf, the move having little impact other than a fucking papercut. Still, it got its attention. Gladio sprang back several steps, trying to create as much distance between their daemon and the one Cor was taking care of. Prompto shot at its head, the bullet grazing off of it, though it still left some sort of wound. It roared at them, and Gladio’s fingers twitched, grabbing the hilt of his sword even tighter. 

Gladio had only ever experienced a few earthquakes in his life. They were all small tremors, only lasting for a couple seconds at a time, and doing little more than shaking his bed as he tried to rest. 

Were he not staring down a red giant as it sped towards them, he might’ve assumed that this was just a much higher scaled version of one of those quakes. 

He darted to the right, and Prompto to the left. As it ran past him, Gladio dropped to his knees and threw his entire upper body into a swing of his arms. He connected with its kneecaps, and it stumbled. Prompto shot at it three times; once in the head, once in the chest, and once in the sizeable gash Gladio had left in its leg. It was slowing, and its howls became more frenzied. It was hurting in a big way now, though they still had a while to go before they could consider it vanquished. 

Prompto spared a look at Cor, who was holding his own with his big bastard. Though the giant was so much larger than the man—it was fighting The Immortal. There was no need to check in on him, and Gladio whistled to get Prompto’s attention back. He snapped back, and the giant finally managed to turn itself around and bent one knee, gearing up for another run. Gladio hopped forward a few feet, and yelled at the giant. 

There were certainly no words spoken between the two of them, but the beast seemed to understand that they were both warriors, and neither would go down without a fight. 

It shook its mighty head, the flame between its horns shuddering and built up. There was a wicked fury in its eyes, and it looked towards them. Prompto fled behind Gladio, just as they had planned. They were far enough apart that Gladio could deliver his hit, and Prompto could follow up easily. It stomped, and once more the ground shook. Gladio steeled himself for its charge, and it certainly followed through. 

But, right after it passed Gladio and he whacked at its other kneecap, it turned its attention to Prompto. 

What they hadn’t accounted for, was the daemon’s ability to sniff out the weakest party. 

It wasn’t Prompto’s fault, but he had nothing to protect himself. Gladio felt a cry rip itself from his throat, and he stumbled while trying to scramble towards the blonde, his blonde his blondie his  _ Prompto  _ as he saw his violet eyes widen with fear, hoping beyond all hope that one of his shots would be enough to bring the beast to its end. 

There was no way Gladio could get to him in time, not with the accursed fucking monster betwixt the two. He stared in horror and still tried to push his legs to move  _ faster  _ as the giant neared the gunman. It brought its sword up, and began to bear down before there was a horrible clash of metal. 

Cor had thrown himself between Prompto and the giant, having pushed the younger behind him. He was crouched, his legs shaking against the weight of the daemon. There was a  _ boom  _ that took Gladio a moment to figure out was coming from the giant’s mouth, and Cor was yelling something, but it was impossible for Gladio to hear over the beast’s noise and Prompto’s gunshots. Gladio continued his sprint, and stabbed the entire length of his blade into the fleshy exterior behind the monster’s knee. There was another massive growl from it, and it buckled, dropping its lock with Cor’s sword to plunge it into the ground and keep itself upright. Gladio had a bit of a hard time removing his weapon, but he tugged and faltered just a bit when it was pulled free. Cor took the opportunity to swipe his katana across its face, and Prompto just kept loading bullets into it. 

Together they made quick work of ending the wretched thing’s life, and it fell forward, bouncing once against the earth and stirring up dirt and dust as it did. Cor cut it a final time, just to make  _ sure.  _

Each of them was breathing hard, and it took a moment before Prompto could let out a weak cheer. Gladio laughed, though it came out as more a snarl. Cor remained silent, but the quick rise and fall of his chest revealed just how winded he was. Gladio stepped around the giant and threw his arms around Prompto, falling to his knees and taking the other man with him. He kissed his forehead, then his nose, pulling his head around with his hands cradling his cheeks as he did so. Prompto tried to chuckle, but he succeeded in a large smile. After another moment of holding him, Gladio rose to his feet, and helped Prompto to do the same. 

He held out his fist to Prompto, receiving the expected bump without delay. Out of reflex, he did the same for Cor, and the older man narrowed his eyes in confusion. Gladio nearly dropped it, before Cor folded his hand and pounded his knuckles lightly against Gladio’s. 

Without speaking, they just took a little while to  _ breathe.  _ The flood of energy that had entered their bodies was beginning to fade, and Gladio just felt weary. The pause was as much for them as it was to just make absolutely damn  _ sure  _ that nothing else was going to pop up in this awful location. Prompto knelt down quickly, and cackled. He sprang back up and waved a shiny object in his hand. 

“I found it!” Before they could ask  _ found what _ he continued on. “The gun that I dropped last time we were out here, I found it!” Sure enough, when he held out the piece towards them, it was the exact same silver revolver that they had considered lost. Cor snorted, and Gladio chuckled. 

“Let’s get out of here before anything else goes wrong, alright?” Cor suggested. Both Gladio and Prompto were more than eager to agree. They walked over to the car and climbed into the same seats that they had arrived in. 

Prompto groaned suddenly, and two pairs of brown eyes were trained towards him. “I lost a contact out there.” Neither of them were impressed, and Prompto mumbled, “They were my last pair,” before dropping it. As Cor’s silent insistence, they all buckled in nice and safe, and hurried off to the settlement that they’d just saved. 

As Cor drove, Prompto opened the glove box, trying in vain to find any extra pair of contact lenses he could. He leaned back in his seat with a loud sigh, clutching his eyeglasses case in one hand. Cor looked over at him and cocked his head, asking for an answer without actually asking. 

“I haven’t worn my glasses in years,” was the response. 

“Well, let’s see them,” Cor prompted gently, and once more Prompto exhaled loudly. 

Gladio knew from experience that his glasses were a sore subject. He’d had them since he was a child, and the mocking that he’d experienced—though friendly—took enough of a toll on him that he vowed never to wear his spectacles again unless he was forced. Gladio didn’t know why; he looked fucking adorable in them. 

Still, he had to say something to encourage the man to actually be able to  _ see _ . “We almost died, Prompto. Surely putting on your glasses is the least of your worries.” Prompto snorted and finally opened the little elongated box. He slowly unfolded the little plastic frames, and slid them on top his nose. Instead of saying anything else, he turned to look out the window, and Gladio set a hand on his shoulder. 

“Well, let’s see them, then.” Again Cor’s voice was soft, affectionate even. As much as Gladio wanted to find fault between him and Prompto, the marshal treated him so well. It was hard to dislike it or even be jealous. Prompto slowly rotated his head back to look at Cor, who looked between him and the road quickly before finally settling his gaze on the blonde for a few seconds. 

He smiled, and gave a large nod. “They look very nice, Prompto.” Gladio tapped Prompto on the shoulder, and he shifted in his seat to face the shield better. Gladio let out a whistle. 

“Make you look smarter, too.” Prompto stuck out his tongue, and Gladio laughed. 

The rest of their journey to the settlement was short and quiet. It was only a couple hours into the night, but due to their battle they were all feeling physically exhausted and wiped. They looked forward to a nice and relaxing ride back, and Takka had even hinted at a special dinner for their heroes upon return. 

Both the three of them and those awaiting their arrival at the settlement made quick work of bringing the boxes of food and supplies indoors. They emptied out their trunk quickly, and a few words of thanks and praise were shared before they were finally allowed to leave. A small payment was made towards Gladio—one that was absolutely insisted upon though he tried very valiantly to refuse the offer. The gil they received wasn’t much, but it was more than they had expected and would help to put food in their bellies or weapons on their belts when they needed it. Gladio profusely thanked them, and nearly skipped back to the car. Their mission was officially over and finally,  _ finally  _ they could return to their temporary home. 

None of them were up much for talking on the ride. Prompto tucked his forearm between his shoulder and cheek, and fell asleep pressed against the door. The wind rippled lightly through his hair, sending his blonde locks cascading through the air. His half ponytail had become looser in their fight, and the little wisps of hair fluttered about his cheeks serenely. Cor took his turns a little slower and kept at a reasonable speed. Gladio wouldn’t have said anything about it regardless, but Cor probably would’ve just fixed him with a steely glare if he had. Gladio spread his legs as far as he was comfortable with, and leaned his head back against his seat. He wasn’t asleep, which is why he heard Cor whisper his name. 

He perked back up and leaned forward so they wouldn’t have to speak louder than a whisper. 

“What’s up, Marshal?”

Cor didn’t take his eyes off the road, but he turned his head just a slight bit so he could communicate easier. “Make sure he gets a potion when we get back to Hammerhead. He took a beating out there, and I know he needs it even if he says he doesn’t.” 

_ Oh,  _ Gladio thought. Instead he said, “Of course.” 

This time Cor did look at him and he rather sternly ordered, “You make sure you get one, too. You fought well out there, and even if you didn’t sustain any injuries it’s important to make sure you’re always at your best.” The concern directed towards Gladio was as much appreciated as it was unnecessary. Still, Gladio was pleased, and he bobbed his head in affirmation. 

“I need to talk to Cid once we get there,” Cor continued. “We should probably all shower before we show up in the diner reeking like we do.” For emphasis he pulled at the v-neck of his shirt and let it snap back against him, a small plume of dust rising off him as he did so. 

“Way ahead of you there, Cor.” The use of the man’s first name was risky, but he didn’t bother to remark on it, and Gladio smirked to himself. 

“Are you alright with waiting about half an hour for me for dinner? If you two want to just go that’s fine, but I thought it would be nice if we went together.” 

There was something underlying there that he wasn’t saying, and if Gladio knew him better he might be able to figure it out—Prompto probably could. As it was, he couldn’t quite put his finger on it, so instead he agreed to the proposition easily. He needed to calm down for a little while before any big receival anyway. 

Neither of them was up for much more conversation, and Gladio settled back into his seat while Cor continued their path. 

It took a little over an hour to arrive back at the garage, what with Cor driving as slowly as he was. Gladio figured it was probably just an excuse to give Prompto more time to rest. Gladio hopped out of the vehicle first, accepting a rather sudden hug from Cindy. 

“How’d y’all do?” she asked rapidly, and Gladio blinked a few times. 

“We did it,” he answered, and she let out a sigh of relief. Cor had also exited the car, and made his way to the passenger side, rapping his fist against the door softly, and Prompto shifted. Cindy was still talking to Gladio, though at some point she stopped, and simply watched the way that Gladio was staring at the other two men. She might’ve been annoyed had she not been fully aware of the fondness in Gladio’s face, so she just clapped him on the back and said that she would see them at dinner. He felt his chin rise and lower absently, and finally Prompto’s eyes blinked open. 

Cor was stroking his cheek lightly and whispering something or another to him, and Prompto yawned into his hand. After some more coaxing he stretched out his arms and fixed his glasses. Cor stepped back a moment so Prompto could open his door and exit the vehicle. He leaned as far backwards as he could while remaining upright, and Gladio could hear the cracks from several feet away. Prompto rubbed one eye as he made contact with Gladio with his other, and waved shyly. Gladio’s voice caught in his throat. 

Prompto’s attention was turned back to the fretting Immortal, and Gladio watched as he fisted his hands at the bottom hem of Cor’s shirt. He stood on his tiptoes to give the man a kiss on the cheek, and hopped over to Gladio, purposefully careening his face into his broad chest. 

“Showers!” Cor called out, and Prompto shot out a muffled  _ yeah, yeah  _ into Gladio’s pecs. They separated, and Gladio sent him off as he reached into the backseat to grab a pair of potions before following suit. 

Prompto had made his way to the bathroom, and had just turned on the water when Gladio shut the caravan door behind himself. He made his way closer, and Prompto was sat on the lip of the tub, holding his hand underneath the running faucet. He looked up as Gladio approached, and eyed the two vials in his hand. 

“Is one of those for me?” 

“Sure is,” Gladio confirmed, and held it out. Prompto took a moment to take it, and Gladio gave the bottle a good shake before Prompto finally retrieved it. He drank it, and only after he was sure that Prompto was done did Amicitia consume his own. Prompto ran the back of his hand across his mouth and pursed his lips. 

“Six, I’m thirsty.” 

Gladio made a show of looking around them and shrugged. “There’s water right there.” 

Prompto rolled his eyes. “We have bottles in the fridge.” 

Gladio raised an eyebrow, and Prompto ducked his head, letting his gaze come from underneath his lashes. Was Prompto just lazy or manipulative? He couldn’t decide. 

With a long groan Gladio relented, and went to grab drinks for himself and his precious, insufferable beau. He tossed it to Prompto, and he caught it easily, turning the water from the faucet to the showerhead after. He unscrewed the lid and gulped the liquid down. Gladio sipped his own, and prioritized undressing over drinking any further. Prompto finished his bottle before stripping off his shirt. He’d already kicked his shoes off by the front door, and Gladio kicked his own over to the same area. Prompto pulled down his pants and briefs, stepping out of them carefully. 

He stepped into the shower first, and practically  _ moaned  _ when the hot spray his his chest. Gladio followed suit and he had to admit, it felt fantastic. 

They had half an hour before they had promised to meet Cor at Takka’s, and nearly the entire time was spent just letting themselves stay underneath the water until its near-scalding nature began to turn lukewarm. They were shampooed and soaped up and rinsed thoroughly, and Gladio had never felt cleaner and warmer in his life. 

Gladio dragged Prompto down with him into the bed after they were dried off, and they simply laid together for a few minutes. Gladio could feel Prompto’s eyelashes each time he blinked against his neck. He could feel how Prompto’s chest moved as he breathed. He could feel Prompto’s heart beating strong in his chest, and for the first time in days he felt himself really, truly relax. 

Their time like this came to an end too soon, however, and they set about dressing in fresh clothes before stepping outside. They had done it in just the nick of time, as Cor was just striding into the restaurant, looking just as peachy clean and fresh as they were. 

Just a beat or two after Cor entered, Gladio and Prompto walked through the door. The man had already been seated, and Takka was by his table. Cindy was in the booth behind him, turned around with her elbows resting on the divider between them, chittering excitedly about their accomplishments. As soon as her eyes landed on the other two men, she sat up straight with a large grin on her face. 

“There’s our heroes!” 

_ Great, that word again.  _

“We just did our jobs, Cind.” Prompto replied, accepting her hug as she motioned for them to come closer. She mussed up his hair and he scowled, trying to push her off even as she kept him in a headlock. Cor watched the scene with a hint of his lips turned up. Gladio slid into his seat as Cindy finally relented and sat back on her haunches. 

Takka spoke with them quietly, giving their options for dinner that night and scuttling back to prepare their orders. 

A few people stopped by their table and thanked them for their work, their compliments politely brushed off. Many people had friends or family by the settlement that had been in danger, it seemed. Really, they were more than happy to do anything. The trickle of those who came to speak with them slowed to a stop, and Takka brought out their plates, with a wink and a promise of something special for dessert. 

They ate in silence for a few moments before Cor cleared his throat. Prompto looked up at him, forkful of pasta halfway to his mouth before he closed it and set the utensil down. Gladio peered at him as he finished his sip of beer and Cor paused for a moment, considering. 

“How are you two feeling?” 

An usually simple question for such a thoughtful approach to asking it. “Fine,” Prompto said. “Bumps and bruises all seem to be gone.” 

“And your wrist?” 

Prompto screwed up his nose. “Hurts a little bit, but it’s honestly alright.” 

Cor nodded, pleased with the answer. “And you, Gladio?” 

“Decent. That potion did the trick if that’s what you’re asking. Prompto had one too. What about you?” 

“I didn’t need one,” Cor responded easily. Neither did Gladio, but he still drank one at the marshal’s request. Who was he to challenge the Immortal?

“What?” Prompto squeaked before fixing his voice into a more even tone. “Why not? You gave us all that crap about how we had to stay healthy and stuff and—” He was interrupted by Cor chuckling, and Gladio raised a brow. 

“I appreciate your concern, Prompto. But truly, I didn’t need one.” 

Gladio knew he was incredulous as he piped up suddenly. “What do you  _ mean?  _ You took on a red giant all by yourself and you just, were fine? Nothing?” 

The man across him shrugged. “I believe it was already injured. It basically stood in place and let me attack it. Seems as though you did a number on it when you were out there previously.” 

“Huh,” Gladio mused and sat back before taking another swig of his drink. They were quiet again for another moment before Cor coughed once and rubbed his bare arms, attracting Prompto’s attention to them. The blonde hastily shoved another bite into his mouth and pointedly looked away. 

“I was going to…” Cor looked around them, and Gladio’s interest was most definitely piqued. He shifted in his seat, and Prompto and Gladio exchanged a look. He could tell what Cor gods damned Leonis was probably going to ask them judging by the wild smile on Prompto’s face. It was something that they had all three participated in only a  _ very  _ small handful of times before. Gladio turned his gaze back to Cor and smirked. 

He had traded in his usual black shirt for a low collared and perhaps just a  _ smidge  _ too small burgundy cotton top. His hair was still wet, and his skin had just enough of a pink hue to it to make him look like he was flushed. It was a good look for the marshal, even Gladio had to admit. He was reminded of a time they were at the campfire a long time ago, and Prompto had whispered,  _ This man isn’t a snack. He’s a full course meal.  _

Gladio smiled very small and he thought to himself,  _ The marshal is a whole fucking buffet.  _

“I was just going to ask if you two had…” He almost looked pained, and Prompto seemed to be loving every single second of this. “Plans after dinner tonight.” 

There was a wicked expression on Prompto’s face as he drawled, “Well, we’re very busy. But I believe I can pencil you in.” The roles were so flipped in this situation. Normally Cor was so cool and collected, but at the slightest hint of anything presumptuous he was almost shy. 

“Anything for you, Marshal,” Gladio confirmed and Prompto leaned forward in his seat. 

“Did you have something in mind?” 

Cor sighed loudly, and Prompto giggled. 

“You know full well.” 

Prompto hummed, and Gladio slung his arm behind Prompto on the bench, fingers brushing against his freckled shoulder lightly. “I don’t think I do know, Cor. There’s a bunch of things that we could be getting up to at night. Right, Gladio?” 

Gladio considered for a moment if he wanted to stop Prompto’s goading, or if he should play along. Then again, it wasn’t often that he saw Cor squirming like this. “Right. Watching TV, playing some Scrabble, discussing the weather?”

“Yeah, exactly. You’re gonna have to be more specific.” 

The command was directed at Prompto, but Gladio still felt a chill run through him as Cor ordered one word, “Enough.” 

Ever disrespectful just because he knew he was cute enough to get away with it, Prompto beamed. “Yes, daddy.” 

Cor’s eyes widened as his lips parted with a minute “D—” coming out before he stopped. Gladio choked, biting his lip to keep a laugh from coming out. 

Not a moment too soon Takka came back out with three dessert platters, each with a slice of cake topped with an unhealthy amount of whipped frosting and one strawberry each. “Oh hell yes,” Gladio announced as it was set before him, and Takka was sent away with a chorus of thanks. He picked up the small fork that had accompanied the dish, and before he could take a bite Cor spoke up once more. 

“Are we—” 

This time Prompto cut him off. “Of fucking course. You think I’d let you come out here and not let you pound me into the mattress?” Cor grimaced at the wording, but seemed more than a little flustered. Gladio put a decent chunk of the cake into his mouth and bobbed his head. 

The matter decided, they quickly finished their food, and slipped some bills onto the table before absconding out the diner. 

It seemed Prompto was already getting into the spirit of things, practically skipping backwards towards their caravan. He pulled at the strings barely holding the two halves of his shirt front together, letting them slip enough to reveal a much appreciated look at his cleavage. If there was anyone around them, they wouldn’t know, not with Prompto acting as he was. Cor refused to look anywhere but straight ahead at him, all the military training in the world unable to stop the flush that was returning to his cheeks. 

When they reached the trailer, Gladio surged forward, pressing Prompto to the outside of the trailer and holding him in place with a knee between his legs. 

Prompto let out a shaky breath as Gladio leaned in close, hands lifting the hem of Prompto’s shirt. He stopped with their lips a hair’s width apart and Prompto waited in anticipation, heart hammering in his chest. “Can you wait ‘till we’re inside?” Gladio murmured, drawing back quickly even as the younger man protested. 

Cor had already opened the door and waited in its frame, and Gladio took that as his cue to pull Prompto inside, following the marshal up the stairs into the living room. 

Barely a single second had passed since the door clicked behind them and Gladio slid the lock into place before Prompto pouncing on Cor. The larger man caught him easily, allowing Prompto to kiss the breath out of him as he slid his tongue into the blonde’s mouth. Gladio almost managed to slip past them, keen on getting a head start into undressing, but Prompto grabbed his wrist, and Gladio leaned down in order to receive his own oral attention. Cor trailed his hands along Prompto’s sides, and when they slipped down to Prompto’s ass and squeezed he gasped and arched into Gladio. 

After only a minute or so of Prompto being sandwiched between the two large men, Gladio regretfully broke his embrace with him. Prompto whined, but Gladio turned him around, and he was quickly sated by Cor’s strong hold on him. 

“You crazy kids go and get started, I’m gonna get a couple things.” They seemed more than happy to do as he had suggested. Prompto allowed himself to be picked up and carried into the bedroom, wrapping his legs around Cor and laughing mirthfully as they landed on the bed after only a few steps. Gladio watched as Cor scooted them further up towards the headboard, and leaned over Prompto once more, determinedly sucking a mark onto his neck. Gladio felt his blood begin to rush south and he reminded himself of his task before he could just stare at them the whole time. 

He set about rushing to a little bag that he always brought with him whenever he met with Prompto or Ignis. He grabbed lube, a couple of toys, condoms, and a pair of handcuffs just in case the marshal wanted it a little bit friskier that night. He kicked his shoes off by where Prompto and Cor had left theirs and contemplated for a mere second to see if he had forgotten anything. 

Without further delay he hurried back towards them. Prompto was already shirtless and gasping, and in the minute that he had left them alone Cor had succeeded in leaving one nicely fresh purple mark where Prompto’s neck met his collarbone. Gladio made a note to not be outdone in the hickey area. Cor’s head perked up as he heard Gladio approaching, and he sat back atop his legs. 

Prompto was a fucking  _ sight.  _ His shirt had been removed, and his hair was already coming undone out of its usual style. His chest was pumping hard, and his hands were above his head. He blinked up at Gladio, lips parted and small huffs coming out between them. 

“Fuck,” Gladio whispered. Cor nodded and cupped Prompto through his pants. A moan ripped itself from the blonde’s throat, and if Gladio thought he was getting a bit worked up before, his cock made itself painfully aware in his pants. The leather didn’t exactly allow for much breathing room, and it took all his willpower not to just disrobe and begin stroking himself already. Cor’s shirt had begun to ride up, showing that even as he was nearing his forties, he still kept himself disgustingly in shape. Gladio couldn’t quite see it yet, but if he had to take a guess he would say that Cor was just as hard as he was. 

He licked his lips as Prompto rolled his hips and took a moment to gain control of himself. “How, uh. How are you gonna want this, baby?” 

“Both of you,” was the response and Cor chuckled. 

“You’ll get us, but who do you want first?” 

Prompto shook his head, a sly smirk coming to his lips. “I mean both of you at once.” 

Gladio sputtered completely inelegantly as Cor muttered “Six.” Still, neither of them could deny him. Cor asked lowly if he was sure, and Prompto completed another distracting body wave that pushed his hips further in the air than they had any right to be. 

This wouldn’t be the first time that Prompto had been penetrated by more than one man. All three combinations of Noctis’s entourage had done it, but both Noctis and Ignis were significantly smaller than the Immortal. Though he was of average length, the man was absolutely  _ thick,  _ and Gladio was not much better. If Prompto truly wanted to do this tonight, he was going to have to work for it. The thought shouldn’t turn Gladio on as much as it did, but he was glad for the toys of varying sizes he held in his hands now. 

“I’m real, real sure.” 

Cor seemed apprehensive, but Gladio just moved closer and climbed up on the bed, sitting cross-legged as he spilled everything. that he had gathered onto the sheets. “We better get started then.” 

Prompto pointed at the shield and cocked his head. “See? He gets it. Are you, um, okay with this, Cor?” 

Cor took a moment to respond, but he leaned forward once more and gave Prompto a long kiss, biting his lip gently before pulling away. “As long as you are,” he replied, and Prompto grinned excitedly. Cor pressed his forehead against Prompto’s and sighed. 

“You’re going to be the death of me.” 

“Please, don’t fuel his narcissism,” Gladio said with a scoff. Prompto was the furthest thing from egotistical that someone could get, and Prompto pinched him on the leg for the quip. 

Cor seemed satisfied though and gave Prompto one last peck before sitting upright once again. “Gladio, if you wouldn’t mind supporting him?” 

Gladio nodded and took a brief pause to rip his shirt over his head before clambering over to let Prompto rest his upper body in his lap. He started carding his hands through Prompto’s hair, and felt the way that he instantly relaxed with the gesture. 

Cor looked over at the supplies and carefully extracted the bottle of lube from the rest, almost as though he was afraid to touch one of the buttplugs or dildos that was in the pile. He stood, and bent down, unbuttoning Prompto’s jeans with one hand. Het the bottle down next to the smaller man’s right leg before tucking his fingers into Prompto’s waistband. He pulled down, and Prompto did his best to help Cor get him out of his clothing. 

Cor was methodical about it, working slowly to get his pants off just to annoy him. Gladio knew Prompto could probably feel his dick against his back, but there was nothing he could do about it. 

Once the garment was off, Cor slid his hands up Prompto’s bare legs at what must’ve been an agonizingly leisurely pace. He spread Prompto’s legs open, and massaged his inner thighs until he extracted a gasp from the man. He tucked his fingers between the hem of Prompto’s briefs and slid upward, the fabric rising upwards and cupping his cock nicely. Cor let go and let his hands flutter to the top hem of the shorts, tugging down just a little. The train of hair that extended to Prompto’s belly button thickened the more Cor revealed, and as soon as Prompto squirmed he ceased his actions, letting go of the band with a snap. 

“Are you gonna be good?” the marshal asked, and Prompto bobbed his head enthusiastically. “I want to hear you say it.” 

“I’ll be good,” Prompto said immediately and breathlessly. Gladio wondered just what it was about Cor that could have him so easily submissive—Gladio usually had to put in effort in order to get him that way. Though as he took another look at the older man, he knew that he would have done the same. 

There wasn’t a lot of illumination in the room, just whatever was streaming in through the aging blinds from the moon. It was enough to move around in, and their eyes would soon adjust anyway. The particles in the air that they were disturbing by their activity drifted lazily around, and long strips of light showered their bodies. The shadows in Prompto’s face were heightened, his lashes long and dark on his cheeks. But when he opened his eyes they shone so brightly, and Gladio felt a swelling of affection in his chest. 

He returned to what he had been doing, this time even more lazily than he had been previously. Prompto said nothing even as Cor finally pulled the briefs low enough that his cock became visible, then even lower until it was freed. It sprang out, rising up an inch or so above his stomach. Cor wrapped his fingers calmly over it, and Prompto cried out, throwing his hand over his mouth to stifle it. 

Cor looked up at Gladio, and he didn’t need to say what he was thinking. Gladio was already pulling Prompto’s hand away, grabbing the other one as well. He held both Prompto’s wrists in one of his hands, and tweaked Prompto’s right nipple for the action. 

“Shit,” he said weakly, and his voice wavered. Cor gave him a couple pumps, and Prompto’s breathing was picking up once more, a few exhales almost turning into groans as Cor worked him. 

Suddenly he stopped and Prompto threw his head back. Gladio tugged at his hair and he shut his eyes tightly as he waited for whatever Cor was going to do to him. Cor made quick work of removing his underwear and settled himself comfortably on the bed between Prompto’s pale legs. 

Gladio in turn was very interested in Cor once more picking up the lube, spreading a healthy amount onto his fingers and giving it a little while to warm before he slid one between Prompto’s ass cheeks, letting himself tease the area before actually entering him. Prompto whimpered quietly and Cor shushed him soothingly. He continued the motion a few more times before finally tracing Prompto’s entrance. He dipped the very tip of the digit in once, twice, then a third time just to needle Prompto. He held one knee away from his body, effectively spreading his legs almost as far as they could go. Prompto was a flexible boy, he could take it. 

Gladio wasn’t in the position Cor was currently, but he had been many,  _ many  _ times before, and his mouth watered at the memory of what Prompto would look like from that angle. He was looking fucking beautiful from where Gladio was, but the thought of gearing up to push into him was something that he  _ craved.  _ They still had a while to go yet, though, so he settled for tugging Prompto’s head back and kissing him upside down. 

The air in their room remained fresh and crisp, the cracked window just enough to stave off any staleness that might have culminated. The comforter was already half off the bed, but they ignored it—one less thing that they’d have to clean later. 

Cor must have finally began fingering him, because Prompto moaned sharply into Gladio’s mouth. He lifted himself up briefly before settling back down, remembering his promise to  _ be good.  _

Gods, Gladio needed him. Needed him more than he needed air. Prompto hitched, and Gladio let go of his hair and his wrists so he could cup his cheeks. The angle was screwed up and they both knew that, but nothing could separate them as Cor continued to press into Prompto’s hole, only stopping once he reached to the knuckle. 

“I’m adding a second one,” Cor informed them, and Prompto broke the kiss, panting into Gladio’s mouth. Cor kept working him, now beginning to scissor his fingers, working slowly to open Prompto up for a third finger. The earlier hesitation he had exhibited seemed to be gone, because now pleasing Prompto so as he was, he seemed perfectly in his element. 

Prompto sighed, and Gladio shifted his torso up higher, craning his neck to get a look at what was going on. Cor’s hand had slid from Prompto’s knee and was now resting at the juncture between his thigh and his groin, running his thumb across the skin and creating goosebumps along the area. Prompto was already vibrating, used to the lack of quick activity. He was loving it though, letting out soft little gasps and cries, but he didn’t dare try and buck. He knew Cor would extract his hands immediately. Gladio wasn’t sure that Prompto knew that if he asked just nice enough he could get anyone to do exactly what he wanted, but maybe that was for the better.

“Another,” came Cor’s rough voice once more, and Prompto mewled as soon as the digit joined the other two. The scissoring motion ceased, and Cor worked to push in and out, letting his fingers slide easily with the assistance of the lube. Prompto dragged one hand down his chest and slid it across his stomach, coming to a stop just above his hip line. He balled his hand into a fist, and his right one came to clutch at Gladio, wrapping around the back of his neck and dragging him down for another kiss. Gladio obliged him as he always did, and Cor dug in deep, searching for the little bundle of nerves that he knew so well. 

With the sharp inhale that exhumed itself from Prompto, and the way that his unpreoccupied hand flew back up to tangle itself in his own hair, Cor had found it. “That’s it, baby, you’re doing great,” Gladio whispered to him, and Cor brushed the tips of his fingers against the spot again. Prompto shuddered and sucked in a large breath. He tried to close his legs, but Cor held him firm, kept him spread and open and willing. 

“Please, Cor,” his voice was so quiet. “Gods, please just both of you I need-I need—”

“You need to be patient,” Cor reminded him. “If we tried this now we’d split you open and I’m not doing that. I assume Gladio doesn’t want to either.” 

Gladio shook his head at the mention of his name. “Sorry, sweetheart. He’s gonna have to keep going.” 

The noise that came from the blonde was nothing short of desperate, but Cor was right. The older man seemed alright with dropping his teasing, and added in his pinky, bringing the total count up to four. His thick digits pumped in and out of Prompto, not caring to target his prostate but not shying away from it either. Prompto moaned and shook as Cor continued to prepare him, still crying out for  _ more  _ even when he almost had a whole fist inside him. Cor quickened the pace of his hand, shoving it deeper still as his thumb traced the spread rim of Prompto’s entrance in a punishing movement. 

Prompto was trembling, wanting so badly to get off but Cor wasn’t letting him. He merely antagonized Prompto’s prostate, brushing against it only once out of every few shoves, and he pressed down on Prompto’s stomach, keeping him from rising and letting him  _ feel  _ those thick fingers inside of him. Prompto turned his head to the left and right, unable to keep himself calm. His moans were becoming increasingly frenzied, and Gladio knew he had to be getting close to begging for relief, begging for Cor to let him come. Then, abruptly, Cor withdrew his fingers. 

Prompto nearly shrieked with the movement, this time unable to stop himself from digging his heels into the bed and pushing upwards, completely shirked of his impending orgasm. Gladio did the best he could to keep him distracted as Cor grabbed ahold of Prompto’s hips. He kissed Prompto’s temples and grabbed at his breasts, pinching and rolling the nipples and Prompto whined pitifully. 

“What’s the biggest one you have?” 

“Huh?” Gladio said eloquently, attention ripped away from the incredibly aroused man in his lap. Cor pointed to the fake cocks that Gladio had brought in, and he understood quickly. He searched for a moment before grabbing the purple colored monster that he’d bought as a joke until Prompto wanted to try out. It was thicker than a mere four fingers, but fortunately not by much. It would prove to be better preparation than a fist, and Cor nodded, pleased. He took the rubber dick from Gladio and wiped his fingers on it, once more taking up the bottle of lube and spreading the substance over it. 

Gladio pushed Prompto’s bangs off his forehead and returned the hold he had had on Prompto’s left pec, admiring the way that the fat pushed through his fingers when he pressed down. 

As Cor continued to work, aligning the toy with Prompto’s entrance, Gladio murmured, “Have I ever told you that you have the prettiest fucking tits in the world?” He accentuated his words with tweaking Prompto’s nipple, and he groaned quietly. Cor looked up and nodded at Gladio. 

“Are you alright?” He asked the blonde again. 

“Yeah,” Prompto responded as he pushed his glasses further up his nose. “But yes, Gladio you’ve told me be—Ah!” Though it was just the very tip of the dildo being pushed inside of him, it was more than enough to have Prompto crying out. Cor carefully maneuvered it past the first ring of muscles and paused, letting Prompto become accustomed to it before daring to continue further. He rose up and over him, keeping one hand between Prompto’s thighs to make sure the toy didn’t fall out, and held himself on his other forearm. He pressed his lips against Prompto’s, and Prompto melted into it. He relaxed considerably, and Cor was able to push the fauxcock in a little further. 

Gladio reached between himself and Prompto’s back and tried to decide if he should press the heel of his palm into his balls just to try and take the edge off a little bit, or if trying to stroke himself would be the better option. He only had a pair of pants on and was so painfully overdressed. He couldn’t imagine how Cor felt, his shirt and pants still in place. Prompto’s hands came to rest on Cor’s shoulders, and the dildo pressed in once more. It was a couple inches in, but there was still some more to go. That wouldn’t even be the biggest thing that Prompto would be taking that night if he had his way. 

“You’re doing so well, Prompto. You’re so beautiful, Six I’ve missed you, I’ve missed you so much.” Cor’s words were tooth-achingly sweet, and Prompto beamed up at him for it. 

“Please don’t leave me,” Prompto whispered, “Cor, Gladio, don’t-don’t leave me please,” He moaned as the toy was pushed forward another inch, arching his chest up. 

Cor shushed him, kissing him again more forcefully than he had before. He broke apart after a few moments, locking his lips onto Prompto’s neck once more. He sucked at a new spot and licked at it, nipping at it gently before returning to nurse at it. When he let go, the dildo was firmly inside Prompto, and there was a little pink mark that wouldn’t bruise, but given any more attention and it very well would. 

Cor didn’t remove himself from atop Prompto—not then at least. Instead he looked him in the eyes, the hard lines and sternness that Gladio had always associated him with completely gone. It was replaced with nothing but absolute fondness, the look in his own copper orbs filled with all the love and affection that he’d gone his whole life without, pouring out as he looked at Prompto. Gladio knew the look well, had felt it when he gazed at the blonde too, had had it reciprocated in full. Perhaps they were both lovestruck idiots, but Prompto just brought that out of them. 

“We’re not going anywhere, we’re right here.” Prompto’s eyes were shining, and Cor dove back in for one last kiss before drawing away and sitting back. Prompto turned his head back and looked up at Gladio, silently imploring that the same comfort come from him. 

Gladio found he couldn’t speak for a moment, overwhelmed by everything he had just witnessed. He found his voice and nodded quickly. “Of course. You think we’d leave you when you’re as unraveled as you are? Like we’ve got somethin’ better to do?” 

Prompto smiled, and Cor began to withdraw the toy almost as slowly as he had put it in. Prompto clutched the sheets at his side, and tried to sit up a bit. Gladio scooched forward a little so that he could have some support once more, and finally the pressure building up against the leather was too much for him. He didn’t want to disrupt what was going on—the dildo almost out of Prompto completely before Cor started to slide it back in, Prompto letting out a  _ loud  _ moan as he did so—so removing his pants was not an option. Instead he opted for unzipping them and freeing his  _ aching  _ cock. He knew that if he wrapped his fingers around it he wouldn’t be able to stop, but this was enough for now. 

After a few pumps, Cor deemed it safe enough to begin moving it faster. Prompto was unable to form words, only able to try and sound out their names and finish them with groans instead of actual syllables. Cor didn’t relent, just pushed it in quicker and removed it just as fast. Each time it was accidentally slid out completely Prompto would choke out a sob, only calming when it was lined up again and shoved back inside him. 

This lasted for several minutes, the noises of pleasure reverberating off the walls of the caravan. If someone were standing right outside their trailer they would undoubtedly hear everything that was going on, but none of the three of them cared. 

Enough seemed to be enough for Prompto and he cried out sharply. “Fuck, Cor, Cor! Lemme,” he paused to pant and moan, forgetting his own language for a moment before he could finally continue. “Lemme come, please, please, oh fucking gods, please, Cor, please.” 

A compelling argument, Gladio had to admit. 

Instead of giving him what he wanted though, Cor slowed once again, making sure the way the toy pushed in and out of him was  _ felt,  _ each movement agonizing and only served to edge him away from his climax. Again, Prompto yelled in frustration, and would have wept if Gladio wasn’t there hovering over him, cooing softly and kissing at his face. 

“What do you think, Gladio?” Cor asked him, dragging out the withdrawal of the cock within Prompto, letting him shake out of need and desire. 

“Cor please I need to come, please just let me I said I’d be good I promised I would—” Prompto’s sentence was one rapid flow of pleading and Cor shoved the rubber back into him forcefully, eyes glinting at the way Prompto arched his back again and cried out. He let it remain there as he waited for the shield's answer, one eyebrow quirked up. 

“You gonna be up for us again if we let you?” 

Before he had even finished the sentence Prompto was nodding, almost breaking his neck with the speed of which he was doing it. “Yeah, yeah I will I will just please, please, please.” He was so sincere, so pretty. Gladio was satisfied, and Cor seemed to be too. One final time he pulled the toy out and let the tip probe at Prompto’s hole, circling around it until he whimpered. Then he finally pushed it back in, filling Prompto up instantly. This time the pace was so rough and hard, but Prompto was loving it. He squealed with delight when he got his way, and he didn’t stop there. Yet again his breaths were becoming shorter and his cries louder. Cor rose up to look at Prompto in the eyes and the blonde smiled at him before moaning. 

Gladio watched intently, and fought with himself every single second that he wasn’t rubbing himself. He didn’t feel when Prompto gripped the back of his neck and pulled down any more than he noticed that Prompto had taken ahold of Cor’s chin and brought them closer. 

It was instinct when their lips met that Gladio deepened the kiss. Only once before had he made out with the Immortal, and neither of these times seemed to disappoint. It was probably only due to the fact that this was what Prompto wanted, but Cor opened his mouth and their tongues slid against each other. 

There was no cheesy ‘battle for dominance’ that Gladio had read about in nearly all of his romance novels. Instead they moved languidly together, and Gladio enjoyed every bit of it. 

“Fuck,” Prompto whispered, and they broke apart then—a thin line of saliva connecting their mouths before it finally broke. “Oh fuck,” Prompto repeated, with more volume this time. 

“Are you close, baby, huh?” Gladio asked him, though he already knew the answer. “I wanna hear you say it, angel. I wanna hear you say it.” Cor remained silent, though Gladio didn’t miss how his hand came close to taking ahold of his cock though his pants before he settled it on Prompto’s hip. 

“Yeah, I’m so fucking close, I’m gonna come. Oh,  _ gods,  _ I’m gonna come Gla—C— _ fuck, I—”  _ His last stutterings were so high pitched, and he didn’t get to finish his thought before he spilled over with a whine, and his hips jerked up involuntarily. His mouth was stretched into a very wide  _ O,  _ and his eyes were screwed shut tight. His eyebrows were knitted, and his hands seemed to have no idea where to go. They drifted from grabbing at the sheets to cupping his own tits, to slapping weakly at Cor’s forearms. His legs tried to close again, but couldn’t get even close with the man seated between them. Another sob came from him, and Cor continued to thrust the object into him as he positively fucking quivered and tried to scramble away. 

Cor pulled it out immediately and Prompto rolled onto his stomach, shoving his face into Gladio’s lap and letting out long and ragged breaths. The white cum that had been on his abs previously was now rubbed on the sheets, but it wasn’t as though any of them cared. Cor was still between his thighs and he ran his hands soothingly down Prompto’s back and thighs. Gladio kept one hand between his shoulder blades and rooted the other in Prompto’s hair, grinning at Cor. 

“You did so well, Prompto. You did so fucking well.” Cor told him. Prompto whined, the sound muffled by Gladio’s muscled limb. Cor covered Prompto’s body with his own, whispering into his ear now. “You hear me? You came for me—for us—so nicely. Look at me, Prompto. Please?” Prompto turned his head, and his expression was so gone with that underlying look of elation. “What do you say?” 

Gladio never would’ve imagined that his dick couldn’t gotten even harder, but it fucking  _ throbbed  _ when Prompto blinked and smiled. “Thank you, Sir.” 

Gladio couldn’t help the groan that came from him and he had to take a steadying wheeze before he just lost it. Cor rose off of him, and Prompto pushed upwards until he sat on his knees. He leaned back until he rested on Cor’s chest and shut his eyes for a few moments. When he opened them again the afterglow blankness was gone, but his pupils were still blown, as he asked “How do we feel about blowjobs?” They both looked at him, though he couldn’t see Cor’s bewildered face. “I mean me giving you two ones. I need a few minutes before we do anything else.” 

Cor thought for a moment. “I suppose.” 

“Put that thing back in me though,” Prompto said as he gestured to the thick purple toy that had been discarded on the bed. “If I close up and we have to go through that again I’ll kill mys—” A glare from both of them had him reconsidering his words. “Uh, I mean I’ll just be deeply unhappy.” 

“I’m good with that,” Gladio admitted. “The part about you sucking us off I mean, not you being unhappy.” Prompto rolled his eyes and peeled himself off of Cor. He shifted his knees so that they were spread and he lowered his front half until his chin touched the mattress. 

At the slight delay, he turned his head back to see what Cor was doing—which was, simply, staring. “We don’t have all night, Cor.” With the mention of his name he snapped back, and grabbed the dildo once more. He made sure to coat it once again with lube and confirmed with Prompto that he was alright before pushing it back in. 

As it entered him again, Prompto let out a long sigh that hitched as it became fully seated within him. “Yeah, shit, that’s good.” He wiggled his hips to confirm that it wouldn’t slide out and turned around so that he sat on his ass. There was a look of pleasure that crossed him, but he ignored it in favor of gazing back and forth between the older men. “So, which one of you wants to go first?” 

Cor jerked his head at Gladio and smirked. “I believe he’s about to blow his load so you might want to attend to him first.” 

The burn had him feeling, but Gladio was relieved that he didn’t have to beg Prompto to let him mouth fuck the blonde first. “Six, Marshal. Call me out why don’t you.” Even as he said that he was adjusting the pillows behind himself and laid down, and let Prompto work off his pants and boxers. He lifted his lower half up to assist, and flopped back down as soon as the garment was pulled off his calves and he kicked them off. Prompto threw them to the ground and licked his lips. “Yeah that’s right, sugar, get yourself ready.” 

Prompto laughed and punched him in the thigh softly. He spun around and Gladio pulled himself up slightly so that Prompto could lay on his stomach, his feet kicking up in the air before crossing at the ankles. He took a few deep breaths and looked at Gladio through lidded eyes before licking a long stripe up Gladio’s cock. He shuddered at the sensation, and he knew he must be staring at him hungrily. There was an up tilt to Prompto’s lips as he lapped at Gladio’s head, already leaking precum. He might’ve been more disappointed with himself if he hadn’t been forced to endure him writhing in his lap for a  _ very. Long. Time.  _

Still, Prompto was merciful and sucked Gladio’s cock into his mouth one inch at a time. His cheeks flared out and Gladio closed his eyes as he lowered himself down before bobbing back up. His tongue put in overtime as he lapped around Gladio’s length, flattening as he took in the man once more and rounding out again when he rose to the tip and swirled around it. 

Gladio had lived a decently long life, but there was not a single person in the world who he had ever encountered that gave better blow jobs than Prompto Argentum. 

He let a rumble out that came from low in his throat and bucked up minutely. It was way too soon to begin pounding into Prompto’s mouth, but he was getting a little desperate himself. He forced himself to keep his ass rooted to the bed and let the other do his thing. 

Suddenly Prompto keened, the sound sending a vibrato to Gladio’s cock and his eyes snapped open once more. Cor was rubbing around Prompto’s hole again, and Prompto pulled off with a  _ pop  _ to moan lowly. Gladio stirred, and Prompto placed his lips over his cock once again. He pushed down, this time taking in about half of Gladio before sliding back up. Cor continued to pay attention to Prompto’s sensitive entrance, and the little noises he let out each time sent a thrill to Gladio’s cock. After a minute Prompto had finally worked the entire length of him down his throat, and he winked at Gladio. 

Knowing exactly what that meant, Amicitia fisted his hands into Prompto’s locks and thrust upwards. It wasn’t a hard motion at all, he knew to be careful. As Prompto adjusted though, he became more bold, guilding Prompto’s head along as he continued to drive himself upwards. He knew never to go too hard, kept his speed and strength in check as he fucked himself into the wet cavern that was offered to him. Prompto settled on cupping his balls, kneading at them and continuing to run his tongue every which way. 

Gladio wasn’t known for sensual sounds during sex, rather raw and harsh tones that came from a more carnal part of him. The more guttural he became the harder Prompto worked, getting him closer and closer with each time Gladio reached the back of his throat and Prompto swallowed, with each swirl of his tongue his peak became almost inevitable. 

Cor didn’t cease his work on Prompto’s behind. There was a firm  _ smack,  _ and Prompto moaned. Cor grabbed the flesh he had just struck and rolled it between his fingers. Prompto jerked back and tried to push himself higher into the air, silently asking for more. Cor slapped his other cheek and twisted the toy inside Prompto, and the blonde pulled his head off and keened even as Gladio couldn’t stop the loud gripe of disapproval. Prompto looked at him apologetically before he buried his face in Gladio’s right thigh. Cor still stood behind him, and Gladio glared at him. He released Prompto and held his hands up in mock surrender, and Prompto took one last moment before returning to his task. 

“I’m gonna make it so that he never gets you off,” Gladio warned Cor, and the marshal remained impassive before sitting down next to Prompto on the bed. 

From then on he did nothing but run his hands down Prompto’s sides and back, leaving his ass alone. The brief minute where Prompto had pulled away from him was enough for Gladio to come down from the edge a bit, but Prompto was doing a  _ terrific  _ job of working him right back up there. Gladio’s hands had never left his hair, and they went right back to their system of Gladio bucking up into his mouth, his leg muscles never failing him as he continued to push himself off the bed. He drew his knees up so that his feet could remain flat on the bed, and he kept them spread to allow Prompto plenty of breathing room. 

After a few more thrusts upwards Gladio finally realized that there was a probing sensation at his own hole, and he looked down to see one of Prompto’s fingers teasing at his entrance. He grunted, and pretty purple eyes flicked up to him. “You’re playing a dangerous game, baby.” Prompto smiled as best he could with a mouthful of cock and continued on. Gladio didn’t mind this, welcomed it from time to time in fact. The dry push of Prompto’s finger just into the very first ring of his asshole—Gladio bucked up faster and groaned. Prompto doubled down, each time Gladio’s hips fell towards the bed he chased after his cock, moved his tongue around even faster. Gladio had complete tunnel vision as he was coming so  _ fucking  _ close to his climax. 

The way Prompto looked between his thighs, the stretch of his lips around him. His messed up hair that hadn’t been put up after his shower, cascading down to almost touch his shoulders and weaved through Gladio’s fingers. The look in his eyes as the little shit  _ knew  _ that if he just kept this up Gladio was going to spill into his mouth. 

“Baby, Prompto—Shit I’m close, can I come in your mouth, baby? Will you let me?” Prompto didn’t answer, but with one last twist of his finger and a final gulp, Gladio tossed his head back and  _ moaned  _ long and low into the air. He had pushed his hips completely off the bed and had forced Prompto up with him, but Prompto just kept sucking until Gladio was spent and then some. He fell back down, and Prompto removed his mouth and licked just one last time up Gladio’s cock. Gladio’s chest heaved, and Prompto moved up him to lie their chests together. 

“You liked that?” 

Gladio’s eyes had closed, but he cracked one open to regard Prompto. “You’re my favorite little slut.” 

“I’m your  _ only  _ one,” Prompto bit back and Gladio cupped the back of his head to bring him in for a kiss. The fact that Prompto had just had his dick between his lips was the furthest thing from his mind as they spent two long minutes joined together, only stopping when Prompto absolutely needed a breath. He sat up and turned around, and Gladio kept a possessive hand on his hip despite knowing it meant little in this situation. 

Prompto pushed up his glasses and tried to run a hand through his hair. It was a mess, and Gladio was solely to blame for that. There was a thin layer of sweat that coated the both of them, and Prompto smelled so good. Some otherworldly force spurred Gladio into action as he rose to his knees and wrapped his arms around Prompto’s waist and began to lap at the juncture between Prompto’s neck and shoulder. Prompto allowed him this, and placed his hands over Gladio’s arms. He gasped softly when Gladio incorporated his teeth into the mix, and patted the man holding onto him. 

“Are you ready, Cor?” he asked, and Gladio had nearly forgotten that the man was in there with him, silent as he was. There was a very dark look in his face, and the tight pants he was wearing were even more strained in the groin. Gladio wasn’t convinced that if they had gone on for a minute or two longer that Cor’s cock wouldn’t have just ripped through the fabric. 

A cough came from the Immortal and he very solidly replied, “Yeah.” Apparently he didn’t trust himself to say more, and Gladio let Prompto go as he crawled over to Cor, mesmerized by the view he was getting. He sat back against the pillows and crossed his legs one over the other. By the time Prompto was done with Cor, he’d be raring to go again, so he might as well enjoy the show. 

Prompto climbed into Cor’s lap, straddling the other man at the edge of the bed as he looped his arms around Cor’s neck. Their kiss began slow and worked its way up the meter quickly. Cor’s hands were all over Prompto, roaming over his body, cupping his cheek, squeezing his ass, fumbling a little with the toy still buried inside Prompto. He grinded against the larger man, making quiet little noises that were swallowed up by the marshal. He whined, and Cor separated them before leaving a peck on Prompto’s lips. He took that as a cue to slowly make his way off of Cor, sliding down his body until his knees hit the floor. He grasped Cor’s thighs and frowed, displeased with something. 

“You have way more clothes on than we do.” 

“I…” Cor began and winced. Prompto cocked his head and gave out a reassuring smile. 

“You don’t have to take them off if you don’t want to. But I figured it’d be more comfortable for you.” Cor sighed and nodded slowly. He didn’t wait for any assistance, simply unbuttoned his jeans and slid them down. As he did so Gladio whistled, and Prompto lit up in joy and surprise. 

“Going commando, Marshal? Looks like someone was expecting to get laid tonight.” 

Cor’s cool composure slipped away as he cut Gladio a nasty look, and the shield chuckled quietly as Cor sat back down, pants removed. He seemed content with leaving his shirt on, but the way it fit—or rather,  _ didn’t  _ fit—across his chest and biceps was beyond enticing. Cor reached back for something that was just out of reach, and Gladio picked up on exactly what he wanted pretty quickly. He handed Cor one of the pillows on the bed, and he passed it along to Prompto. 

He tucked it under his knees and had fixed himself with an expression of mock-surprise. “Aw, you guys really do care about me.” Gladio told him to shut up, and Cor simply leaned forward and held his left cheek, running his thumb along his bottom lip.  _ What a sap,  _ Gladio thought to himself as if he hadn’t done the exact same move hundreds of times himself. He decided to forgive Cor’s earlier transgression in favor of his lounging. Besides, he didn’t know if he could withstand any more of Prompto’s mewling without pulling the rubber toy out of him and fucking him until he cried. 

Within a moment Prompto was lowering his mouth onto Cor’s thick and ready length, none of the teasing licks he had given Gladio. The noise Cor let out as soon as he was given attention exactly where he needed it was a low and quiet one of satisfaction. Prompto steadied himself and reached one hand out, fingers just beneath the hem of Cor’s shirt. As his head continued its path downward, his fingers slipped up, taking the material with them. Cor put a hand atop of Prompto’s, but he didn’t stop him. Prompto let the shirt rise just underneath Cor’s pecs and there it stayed, bunched. Cor watched him intently as he worked, and due to his earlier practice soon all of Cor was down Prompto’s throat. 

Cor settled back on his left elbow and still held Prompto’s hand where it was on his stomach, and Prompto hummed around the dick he had so lovingly attended to. Cor wasn’t much for voicing his pleasure, but he did let out a sigh. He threaded his fingers with Prompto’s and made an effort to kiss Prompto’s knuckles before finally allowing himself to relax into the treatment. 

Much like he had with Gladio, Prompto was sucking like a pro. The difference was though that Cor let Prompto do as he pleased. If he decided to pop off and run his tongue along Cor’s slit before circling around his tip again, Cor was more than happy to let him. Prompto lapped at the fluid that was seeping from Cor’s cock before gulping him back down again, swallowing hard and breathing sharply through his nose. Cor released his hand and brushed Prompto’s hair from his eyes. He wasn’t prone to settle back and close his eyes it seemed—he wanted to look at Prompto in his endeavour, offering small and muted words of encouragement as he went. Where Gladio preferred his cock sucked fast and full of passion, Cor seemed to cherish the slow and steady route, lovingly running the back of his fingers against Prompto’s cheek and idly playing with a lock of Prompto’s hair. 

Prompto kept his bobbing lazy, letting his saliva sloppily coat Cor’s length and adding a tenor to his voice in order to increase the feeling. “Keep going, you feel so good,” Cor whispered. 

Gladio bit the inside of his cheek to distract himself, finally beginning to stir again after a few minutes of being neglected. 

There wasn’t a very clear indicator of when Cor was getting close to his release. There was only a sharp intake of breath every few moments, and the nicknames and endearments began to come out in his speech. Prompto moved his head a little bit faster up and down and used both hands to slide up Cor’s thick and scarred thighs. Gladio tightened his legs just a bit more and ran a hand through his hair. “My sweet Prompto, Six, that’s good. I lo—” He stopped himself suddenly and groaned just once, once more stroking Prompto’s cheek. He pulled off and kissed the skin above Cor’s cock, using his hand to jerk him off as he grinned up at him. 

“Do you wanna come in my mouth too?” 

Cor said nothing, but there was a minute bob of his head and Prompto ducked back down, increasing his movements even more and letting his humming intensify. Gladio wouldn’t have been able to guess that Cor was so close, but Prompto knew, and suddenly Cor barked out a yelp and shook, biting onto his knuckle and throwing his hips up only once before settling back down, breathing raggedly as Prompto swallowed his load and drew away. 

Cor remained where he was for a short while, with Prompto between his legs and resting his head against Cor’s thigh. “Thank you,” Prompto murmured and Gladio hated the way that those two words could affect him even after he had cum so recently. Cor scooted back on the bed and Prompto did the same as he had for Gladio—clambering onto him and resting for a few minutes. 

Only then did Cor close his eyes. He might’ve been asleep if it weren’t for the way he was brushing his knuckles against Prompto’s arms, trailing along the limbs casually. Unlike Gladio, he wasn’t one to let himself completely go in the presence of another person, but Gladio could tell he wanted nothing more than to cuddle up with Prompto and spend the rest of the night whispering sweet nothings into his ear. 

But they had a long way to go before they could call it quits. 

Cor seemed to be on the same internal page that Gladio was on, and his hands trailed lower until they once more probed at Prompto’s entrance. He had become more than accustomed to the fake cock inside of him by then, but the tugging reminder that it was still there had him reeling and holding onto Cor. 

“I still need to stretch you out more,” Cor told him quietly and Prompto shuddered. “Gladio, can you—” Cor started, but Gladio was already up and scrambling for the lube. He handed it over, and Cor kissed Prompto before rolling them over and leaving Prompto to lay on the mattress. He stood up and stretched, creaking as he did so. “Gods, I’m getting old,” he said mostly to himself and shook out his appendages. He motioned for Prompto to rise, and he did so, quickly getting to his knees and waiting for further instructions. Cor took ahold of his waist and helped him turn to face Gladio. 

“Can you sit on the edge of the bed?” Cor asked Gladio, and dutifully Gladio arranged himself as told. Cor trailed his lips up Prompto’s spine and nipped at his neck before assisting Prompto with straddling Gladio. He placed his hands between Prompto’s thighs and ran them up, skipping his cock entirely and shifting up to grab his tits and paid them a little attention—just enough to make Prompto let out a long moan. He stepped back and kicked the pillow over to rest just at Gladio’s feet and he steeled himself before settling himself on it. 

“Just keep him distracted,” Cor asked of him, and Gladio was more than happy to do so. A sound of the lid being popped off followed, and Gladio immediately set to attacking Prompto’s neck. He was determined to leave at least one bruise that was larger than the one Cor had sucked onto him earlier, and now seemed as perfect a time as any to fulfill his personal mission. Prompto cried out gleefully and rocked forward to press his chest against Gladio’s, tilting his head back to expose his throat better. 

Cor finished warming up the grease on his hand, and he quietly uttered that he was going to start. Prompto confirmed yet again that he was ready, though his noise of affirmation quickly turned into a hiss as Cor’s finger entered him alongside the dildo, the amount inside of him almost too much to bear. 

Cor could only push his finger in slowly, and he grazed his lips against Prompto’s lower back, asking him calmly to relax as best he could. Prompto tried to listen, but he was torn between listening to the man, and listening to everything within him that told him he should not have that much stuffed inside of him. 

Gladio did his part, praising him between his little nips and sucking at his skin, let Prompto hold onto him as tight as he needed, and returned the favor in kind. There was a tense minute that passed between the three of them before Cor stated, “It’s in,” and Prompto sighed. That was the easy part. He could rapidly get used to the digit inside him as Cor let it sit before slowly sliding it out and in. 

From there it became a matter of how fast they could take this preparation. Cor couldn’t do much more other than fit four fingers inside of Prompto at his max before they would be ready to enter him themselves. Still, one step at a time was necessary. 

Cor, to his credit, knew exactly the pace at which to perform this duty. He knew how long he needed to try and stretch Prompto’s rim before he could even try and add in a second finger, and he knew how best to get him to listen to his words of ministration. When he couldn’t do it all himself though, Gladio was at the ready. 

As soon as he began to slide the tip of his middle finger in Prompto tensed and bit his lip. Gladio took his face in his hands and kissed him, sliding his tongue along Prompto’s bottom lip until he opened up, and then he attacked his mouth. Prompto sighed into it, and Cor continued to press further into him. 

The same slow process was undertaken for the third and fourth fingers. Each time he had gotten Prompto properly accustomed to the digits, he let him have a moment before proceeding further. But when his pinky was inside, there was no turning back from the path they had set before them. 

Prompto moaned, a picture of wanton lust even as his eyes were so tightly shut. His hands had gone back so that he grabbed his own heels, effectively pressing his chest out. Gladio had taken full advantage of it, cupping a breast with one hand while he sucked on the nipple of the other, rolling it between his teeth and tongue and reveling in the sharp little noises that Prompto was producing. He still had his eyes closed, only letting them flutter open to little slits when Cor rocked him a little more than expected. Gladio held his hip firmly with one hand, and Cor held the other. Neither would even think of letting him fall. 

With another few minutes of Cor fingering him, he took his hand off Prompto’s waist and twisted the toy around alongside his digits. Prompto groaned openly in surprise, and after a few more movements Cor placed one more kiss on his spine and looked up at them. 

“You’re about as prepared as I can get you, Prom.” His composure was absolutely incredible, Gladio noted. There was no way he could be behind Prompto like that working on his hole as intently as Cor was without losing any control over his voice or even himself. Perhaps he gave himself too little credit, but he definitely would not have had as strong a resolution as the marshal seemed to possess. 

“Okay,” Prompto whispered before clearing his throat and nodding his head. “Okay,” he repeated, stronger this time. Gladio nuzzled his neck and Prompto smiled and left a small smooch on his temple. 

“I’m going to take out my fingers and the toy, then,” Cor said, already rising up. 

“Yeah,” Prompto replied. Cor did as he vocalized he would, and Prompto hissed at the sudden loss. He buried his face into Gladio’s shoulder and rocked his hips forward, craving any sort of pleasurable engagement. Gladio wrapped his arms around him and placed a hand into his hair, grinning at Cor. The Immortal’s lack of pants was making it clear just how hard he was, and he must be  _ dying  _ to actually stick his cock inside of the blonde. He paused for a moment, and removed his shirt slowly. Gladio said nothing, not wanting to scare the other man, but he did appreciate the view immensely. Cor wiped his grease-covered hand on his thigh and stepped forward. 

Gladio shifted until he could lift Prompto up and drag them both backwards towards the headboard to give Cor room to climb up once more. He took the opportunity, and Prompto’s uneasy expression immediately relaxed once he felt the other man press up against him. 

“How do you want to do this?” Cor asked Gladio, seemingly content with letting him make the decision as to who would enter first. 

Gladio considered, but turned his palm upwards towards Cor. “You go first.” 

Cor looked like he was about to protest, but Gladio insisted. 

The older man took a steadying breath before hesitating. Prompto craned his neck to look at him and raised his eyebrow. “What are you waiting for? C’mon, Cor, I need you, I fucking  _ need  _ you.” That seemed to be encouragement enough, and Cor took himself in his hand and wiped the remainder of the lube over his cock before exhaling, and guiding himself in. 

Normally Prompto would be so tight around him, but he had done his job well. There was a fluttering sensation as Prompto tried to clench around him, but he was just so loose and so very tired. Cor placed one palm on Prompto’s stomach, and used the other to guide his chin so that he could press his lips against Prompto’s. The gunsman seemed more than happy with this, letting himself smirk into the kiss as he pressed into it more. Cor was sitting on his calves with Prompto straddling him backwards. Gladio didn’t have to wait long before he was invited to join the mix, and he forced himself to move at a normal speed rather than leap at the man before him. 

Just as he had done so many times before, he picked the lube up and slathered it over his hand. There was a generous amount, and he had a feeling he would be needing it. Without waiting for it to warm he smeared it over his cock and sucked in air at the feeling. He made sure he was fully coated before walking over on his knees, and Prompto pulled away from Cor to look at him. Gladio sunk down and aligned himself with the remaining space that he could slide into. One last  _ yes  _ from Prompto was all he needed to officially start pushing in. 

He was met with some resistance, though as he worked slowly, more of his length began to disappear into Prompto—the blonde unable to stop writhing or moaning all the while. 

When Gladio was fully sheathed, he blanked out for a moment, so consumed with the sensations that washed over him. There was such an intense heat enveloping his cock, sandwiched between Prompto’s walls and Cor’s dick. Prompto was stretched as far as he could go, and his cries of pleasure turned into tiny little gasps as he grew used to the feeling of being so, totally, amazingly  _ full.  _

Gladio looked into Prompto’s eyes, unable to stop himself from staring. “You’re fucking incredible.” 

Prompto did nothing but whimper, and Gladio laughed. With some work, they managed to get Prompto’s legs to wrap around Gladio’s torso, and he was lifted into his lap without either he or Cor slipping out. Cor kept his knees together, and Gladio spread his around Cor’s legs. They gave one experimental thrust together, and Prompto wailed once—a success. 

They started at a sluggish and lethargic pace, though each of them was aching to be able to pound into him for as long as they had waited. His comfort, though, ultimately was the most important, so they worked together to move in sync. 

Due to their combined thickness, there was no way to avoid brushing against Prompto’s prostate with every single shove, and he felt each intense push, crying out and wavering each and every time. Cor’s hands stayed where he had initially let them rest, though he was pushing Prompto’s stomach down. Not only did this make it so Prompto could feel them inside him even more profoundly, but this served to add another pressure to their cocks. Gladio grunted and grit his teeth. It was becoming harder to keep his orgasm in check, but he concentrated and held it at bay for the time being. 

It didn’t appear as though Cor or Prompto were having any easier times with the same task. Gladio took his gaze off of where he was shoving into Prompto, and saw that Prompto was actually fucking  _ drooling.  _ His mouth hadn’t closed in a long while, and what came from his mouth ranged from mere panting to near  _ shrieks  _ of unadulterated enjoyment. One hand was holding onto Gladio’s shoulder, and the other he had reached back to hold onto the back of Cor’s head, letting the man suck at his neck yet again. 

During all the time that they had been fucking up into Prompto, Cor had managed to leave not one, but two new hickies. Gladio twitched. 

Cor’s mouth was affixed onto the right side of Prompto’s neck, and in a bout of jealousy, Gladio dove for his left side. Prompto cried out at the suddenness of it, but his cry turned into, “Yes, oh gods, yes.” Cor paid the other man no mind as he continued on with his work, but Gladio was determined to show him up. He pulled away a few times to examine his handiwork, but each time he was disappointed with the knowledge that that measly mark would never turn into a proper bruise, so he kept at it. Finally after nearly a full minute of lapping and biting and sucking as hard as he could, Prompto was left with one more deep purple stamp on his pale skin. 

The entire time they hadn’t stopped thrusting into him, and they could finally pick up the pace. Languid turned into restrained pushes, turned into increasingly frenzied. 

Prompto didn’t know what to do with himself. His spit had made itself down his chin and joined in with his sweat to cover his chest in a beautiful sheen. The more he clenched, the more it drove Cor and Gladio insane, and there was no way that Prompto could form any actual words anymore. His frames were slipping down his nose, and with each thrust they jumped on his face. Gladio took the incentive to push them back up to where they should be, and Prompto was so far gone he didn’t notice at all. His hands fluttered from Gladio’s shoulders, to his chest, to holding onto Cor to clasping over his mouth. He looked so sweet and genuinely demolished. Cor didn’t seem like he was faring much better, his eyes dark and gazing only up and down Prompto’s profile, unfocused. 

Gladio was surprised he had any conscious thoughts at all—though they were few and far between. He had moved onto a separate spot on Prompto’s neck to abuse, and Cor had settled for trailing his lips along the blonde’s skin, harsh breaths coming out from between them. Gladio groaned, and Prompto whimpered along with him. The two of them were so incredibly close. 

Prompto’s hand finally encircled his cock, and as soon as Gladio noticed he pulled it away gently to replace it with his own. “It’s okay, baby, I got you.” He stroked once lazily and Prompto bit his lip. Gladio smiled, and kept pumping his hand. 

Prompto—who until then had been content with being trapped between the two larger men and allowed them to control his movements—began rolling his hips desperately, trying to chase after Gladio’s hand. He tightened his grip and increased his speed, and Prompto launched himself at Gladio, throwing his arms around Gladio’s neck and letting out little tiny sobs that became suspiciously like frantic moans. 

With one final throw of his head and a strangled groan, he spilled over into Gladio’s hand and his own stomach. He bucked a few times, sensitive cock still being tortured as Gladio rubbed his thumb over Prompto’s slit. He finally let go, and Prompto collapsed backwards, his entire body trembling violently. Gladio kissed his cheek and ceased his thrusts, choosing to stay still inside Prompto for just a minute. “That’s my boy,” he whispered, and Prompto whined. He let him be and sat back. 

Cor hadn’t stopped though, but now he was holding the smaller man’s chest, squeezing his tits and murmuring in his ear. Gladio didn’t catch much, but he did hear,  _ “I’ve missed you so much, I missed you so fucking much, I heard that you got hurt and I—”  _

Prompto may have not been fully lucid, but in his blissful state he turned back and kissed Cor hard, letting their mouths stay together as Cor’s thrusts became sloppier and faster, more determined. Finally Cor pulled away and let a long “Fuuuck,” fill the air between them. He let his forehead fall onto Prompto’s shoulder and he heaved. Prompto ran his fingers through Cor’s short hair, and the marshal came to his senses after a few moments. He pecked Prompto’s shoulder and looked up at Gladio. 

“Seems like it’s your turn now.” 

Gladio grinned ferally at him, and Cor kept himself inside Prompto, holding onto his length to ensure that it didn’t slip out. Gladio steeled himself, grasped Prompto’s hips solidly. He let himself have one last second, and he rocked up into Prompto with enough force to startle him into a cry. 

Gladio continued like that, holding on tightly and thrusting, deaf to the world outside of his own movements until he heard a soft voice. Prompto was repeating his name, sighting into the word and hiccuping. This is what finally got Gladio to the brink. What pushed him over was Prompto looking at him with such a beautiful expression that he couldn’t help himself. He smashed his mouth into Prompto’s—a little uncoordinated and a little painful—but he kissed back intensely, and Gladio spilled into him. He kept going until he felt himself soften, and only then did he pull away. 

He laughed, and Prompto did the same with his locks as he had with Cor’s, though this lasted longer. Cor placed one last peck between his shoulder blades and pulled out, Prompto hissing slightly as he did so. 

“Everything’s gonna spill out,” Prompto murmured. 

“Shower?” Cor suggested, and Prompto nodded tiredly. Cor made his way off the bed and padded over to the bathroom to get the water heated up, and Prompto fell into Gladio’s embrace, exhausted. 

“You were fucking amazing, baby,” he told Prompto.

“I know,” was his reply, and Gladio chuckled. 

They heard Cor call to them that the water was ready, and Gladio pulled Prompto up with him as he stood, trading his fingers in for his cock to avoid letting cum drip out unpleasantly. Prompto seemed more than a little disappointed at the sudden loss, but he wasn’t going to complain. 

Cor was in the kitchen space when they appeared, and he jerked his thumb back towards the shower. “You two go, I’m going to clean up a little.” Prompto snorted, but neither of them objected. 

They made quick work of their time in the shower, neither up for any more activities before rest. They toweled off and headed back towards the bedroom to find clean sheets on the bed. Their clothes were also picked up and placed nicely atop of the small dresser in the room. Cor slipped into the shower as soon as they had left it, and Prompto dragged himself onto the bed, placing himself in the middle and sighing. 

“Never in my life have I been fucked like that,” he announced, and Gladio slid in next to him. Prompto turned to face away from him, and Gladio took his cue to wrap an arm around and Prompto snuggled in. 

After a few minutes the water turned off, and Prompto’s eyes flickered open, head rising off the pillows to wait for Cor to enter. He took his time, and when he did he was dressed. He had all but his shoes on, and the two other men frowned. 

“Where are you going?” Prompto asked, a high note to his voice revealing his surprise and dismay. 

“Back to my trailer,” he replied slowly, and Prompto launched himself up. 

“What? No, you can’t go!” Cor shifted, and when Prompto sat on his ass he winced, shifting so that his legs held him up. “You have to stay.” His voice was coming out as more a bellyache than nothing else, but he had been through a lot that night. Still, Cor seemed uncomfortable. 

“I don’t want to impose.” 

“Six, you sound like Ignis,” Gladio cut in. “Stay the night, Cor. Who’s it going to hurt? We don’t have anything to do tomorrow anyway.” 

At Prompto’s insistence and Gladio’s words, he finally seemed swayed. He looked around himself and exhaled. He slipped out of his pants and shirt, and Prompto relaxed himself into the position that he had been in before. Cor slipped underneath the sheets to Prompto’s front, and his arm joined Gladio’s around Prompto’s waist, his other tucked underneath his head. Prompto relaxed between the two of them happily. 

It was a little weird at first, undeniably, but with as tired as all of them were, it wasn’t long before they finally drifted asleep. Gladio was left awake for the longest amount of time, but even he wasn’t able to keep his eyes open for long. 

He didn’t know how long he slept for, but when his eyes opened the sun was just beginning to rise. It was still sloped behind the horizon, and early morning was long gone. He sat up and stretched, and Cor’s gaze flickered to him. He hadn’t been awake long judging by the fresh glazed look on his face, but he was tucking Prompto’s hair behind his ear, hand slowly drifting away at being caught. 

“Just wanted to look at him for a little while?” Gladio asked, not at all surprised by Cor’s refusal to answer. “I do it too, don’t worry.” Cor still said nothing, but he sat up too, careful to not disturb the still sleeping man. 

Gladio wasn’t going to get anywhere with the marshal with his line of discussion, so instead he suggested, “Coffee?” This time Cor agreed, and together they set about dressing, and Cor left for the kitchen as Gladio leaned down and shook Prompto’s shoulder gently. He stirred, albeit not much. “You wanna get up?” 

Prompto shook his head. 

“Half an hour?” 

This time he nodded, and Gladio smiled and pressed a quick peck to his temple. “I’ll come get you later then,” he said, and left him in peace. He padded out into the kitchen where Cor was standing by the ancient coffee maker, arms crossed and his right pointer finger’s knuckle resting on his chin, tapping at it idly. He turned his head as he heard Gladio approach, then turned back to the machine. It finally began to show signs of life, the old filter groaning before spitting out one thick spray of liquid. Cor smacked it once, and the horrible noise stopped, and actual coffee flowed from it. Gladio took a seat at the table and waited. 

“It’s the instant kind, if you haven’t figured that out already. Hope that’s alright.” 

Gladio shrugged. “I’ve had worse.” 

One cup finished, and Cor set it in front of Gladio, leaving cream and sugar resting beside the mug. Gladio poured in a healthy amount of both and stirred with the little straw that had been left in his cup. Cor’s own brew finished soon after, and he joined Gladio at the table—albeit on the other side. He took up the sugar and dumped three spoonfuls into his coffee. He followed it with creamer and Gladio raised a brow. “Huh.” 

“What?” 

“Always figured you’d like black coffee more. With you being the way that you are.” Cor rolled his eyes and blew on his drink before taking a sip. 

A long moment of silence passed between them, the only sounds being the occasional gulp or the clink of ceramic being settled on wood. Gladio fidgeted and sniffed, unsure if he wanted to say what was on his mind. 

“You love him,” Gladio said. It wasn’t an accusation, just a fact and he said it as nonchalantly as he could. 

Cor startled and looked up at him. “Love...Who?” It was a horrible retort, and he winced as soon as it passed his lips. Still, it seemed like he was going to go with it. Gladio stared at him until Cor cleared his throat, and his fingers drummed against his mug. “ _ You  _ love him,” he murmured finally, not dissimilar to a petulant child before he regained his composure. He sat stiff and perfectly still, gaze drifting towards the table before him and staying there. Gladio sighed. 

“Of course I do,” he affirmed lightly. Everyone within a five mile radius of him and the blonde must know that. “But we’re talking about you.” Again Cor refused to speak, but after a moment there was a minute bob of his head that Gladio pounced on. “Have you told him yet?” 

The marshal’s voice was strained as he murmured, “He knows.” 

“But have you  _ told  _ him,” Gladio goaded. This time Cor shook his head no. “He fucking adores you, you know.” 

Cor paused to take a sip, unable to hide the slight tremor of his hands before he set the cup down and folded them, knuckles white. “I’m an old man,” he said finally. There was no venom or bite to his words, but he said it like he’d done it a thousand times before. Like he’d said it a thousand times before while trying to convince himself of something. 

“You’re not  _ old,”  _ Gladio began. “And what would that matter anyway?” 

“I can’t make him happy.” 

This time Gladio laughed, earning him a vicious glare. “Of course you can! You already  _ do! _ Whenever you leave he gets all sad and grumpy.” His last words were mocking, but they were full of affection all the same. “He misses you when you’re not around just like he misses any one of us.” Who he was referring to when he said  _ us  _ was obvious, and Cor didn’t need to ask to understand. 

“He’s all I…” Cor started and cut himself off sharply. Gladio could guess as to how he wanted to end the sentence, but after a long sigh Cor did it for him. “He’s all I have that keeps me going. My duty to the prince is the most important thing, of course. But while he’s in that crystal there’s nothing to...Nothing to get me out of bed in the morning. It’s so easy to look at the world and know that everything’s going to shit, but just knowing that he’s out there and that he’s safe is enough for me to continue on.” 

Never in a million years did Gladio expect to hear anything like what had just come out of Cor Leonis’s mouth to...Well, come out of his mouth. Years ago he would’ve put money on the fact that the man wasn’t capable of human emotions, let alone love to the extent that he seemed to be devoted to Prompto. He knew the feeling. As he looked back at the door that separated them from the slumbering blonde, he knew the feeling. He felt a sharp pang in his chest at all the horrifying and terrible unknowns in their future. It would be so easy to tell Cor that everything was going to be fine. That they had all the time in the world to sort this out, and they could all be happy together. It would be a lie though. 

So he didn’t say any of that. “Tell him. What’s the worst that can happen? He says it back and doesn’t immediately jump your bones?” 

Cor’s lips tilted up, but he schooled his expression back to his usual frown. “And if something happens to me? Then I just leave him and…” This time when he drifted off he was done. 

“Look,” Gladio rested a hand on Cor’s, and the mashal didn’t pull away. It was a gamble, but one that seemed to pay off. “I know you don’t  _ do  _ emotions or whatever, and I know that it’s hard for you to admit that you care about him as much as you do. But—like you said—what if something  _ does  _ happen to you? Or—gods forbid—to him? And you never told him how you felt?” 

The immortal was left stuttering for a second before he just gave up. He took a deep breath, but he finally nodded slowly. “You’re right.” 

Gladio leaned back, a satisfied smirk clear on his face. His hand pulled away from Cor’s as he did so, and the older man watched it go. “Of course I am. As soon as he wakes up, you tell him, alright?” 

He was surprised for the second time that morning when Cor huffed and sat up straight. “I, uh...care about you too.” Gladio laughed, just a little, and he bowed his head deeply before bringing it back up again. 

“Good start. I know though, and I care about you too.” Without it being said he comprehended that it wasn’t the same way that Cor  _ cared about  _ Prompto, but the sentiment was nice and he didn’t mind. 

They finished their coffee, and Gladio checked his cell. There were several calls from Monica, and he breathed out wearily. “Can you wake Prompto up? I need to respond to Officer Elshett.” Cor agreed, and took Gladio’s mug to the sink for him before returning to the bedroom. Gladio took a seat on the couch and crossed his ankle over his knee. 

Monica picked up after the third ring, a panicked tilt to her voice. Gladio swallowed. 

“G-Gladio? Hello?” 

He didn’t respond for a moment, almost scared of what she might have to tell him. A brief thought flashed though his mind. He could easily hang up, get rid of his phone, feign ignorance. It was as fleeting as it was stupid though, so instead he coughed once and replied, “Yeah? What is it, Mon, is everything okay?” 

“Oh thank gods, Gladio. You have no idea how happy I am to hear your voice.” As she spoke, he concentrated on a string that was hanging off his sweatpants. He pulled and it unraveled, but refused to break. He sighed quietly and tugged on it a little harder to no avail. “Listen, I wouldn’t be calling you now if I didn’t have to.” 

“I know, Monica.” 

“It’s just, we really need help out here. And I hate to bother you but it was so important that I got ahold of you.” 

“I know, Mon.” 

There was hardly a breath taken from the woman on the other end before she continued on. Gladio finally got the string to reach a hem, and with a dulled sense of satisfaction he plucked it from his pants. She spoke frenzied on the other line, and he half-listened to what she was saying, pretending he was too wrapped up in twirling the long thread around his fingers when in reality his heart couldn’t stop hammering in his chest. 

She reported the current situation about an outpost far away from Hammerhead. It was at least a full day’s drive away, but she needed his help with a Magitek army as soon as he could. She told him that Iris was already on her way, but they required his assistance as well. He looked into the room that the caravan’s other occupants were in. He hadn’t realized he was rubbing so hard at his chest, trying to ease the ache that he felt beneath his ribcage. He inhaled shakily, and asked the question he already knew the answer to. 

“And Prompto? We just finished this mission, he could come with me.” 

Her voice changed then from frantic to soft and understanding. Despite all his attention to the area, the pang in his breast refused to cease. “Gladio, I’m afraid not. He has another mission to do, and I’m worried he would be a distraction for you here.” 

_ He wouldn’t be!  _ Gladio wanted to demand harshly, but instead he forced out a laugh. His hand that wasn’t cradling his phone went to fist itself in his hair and he tugged a few times before deciding what to say. “Yeah, I figured it was a long shot. I’ll be there though, I’ll leave in just a little bit I promise.” 

“Thank you, Gladio,” she replied, and their phone call was finished immediately after. 

The small composure Gladio had maintained was shot to hell and his entire body sagged. The earlier elation he’d had upon waking with his arms wrapped around Prompto was gone. The conversation he’d had with Cor that had brought him such peace for such a short amount of time was erased. Instead he sat slumped with his head in his hands and his cell clutched in one fist, digging into the skin of his skull. He thumped it against himself a few times, the temporary pain enough to draw his thoughts away from the emotional agony. 

It happened every time. Either Prompto or Gladio would get a call that would tear them away from each other, and they would leave unhappy and sulking. This time was different though. At least Prompto had Cor, and Gladio would get to see Iris for the first time in a long while. The tradeoff was decent, even if it would kill him inside for a time. 

Slowly he peeled his face from his palms and looked over to the bedroom. Cor was doing as Gladio had asked, but Prompto was laughing and tugging at Cor’s shirt. Cor was lifted on his knees on the bed, one hand pressed into the mattress by Prompto’s head as the other clasped the side of Prompto’s neck. They looked comfortable, like they had been busy with each other for several minutes, while Gladio was on the phone receiving less than stellar news. It couldn’t be helped though, and there was nothing he could do about it now. He had a job, a  _ duty.  _ Since he couldn’t be the king’s shield while he was locked in that crystal, he would be Lucius’s shield instead. 

With a quiet sigh Gladio stood and made his way to lean in the doorframe. Prompto’s eyes flicked over to him, and he held out his hand, faltering when he saw the greyed and morose expression on his face. 

“Monica says I have to head out towards the Saxham Outpost.” This time Prompto’s face fell, and he looked devastated. He probably felt it too. 

“But that’s…” 

“So soon,” Cor finished for him. 

He shrugged, trying not to let his frustration show. “You’re telling me. One minute everything’s fine and the next,” he made a sweeping motion with his hand. “Everything falls to shit halfway across Lucis.” 

“When do you have to go?” Prompto asked, still somehow hopeful. 

Gladio hated to be the one to tell himself. He wished he had asked Monica to let them know personally that he had to leave, but instead he gritted it out himself. “I said I’d go as soon as I could. Which, unfortunately, is now.” 

Prompto’s attention fell to the side, and Gladio stepped forward, gripping his chin with a small amount of force. Prompto looked back to him, and Gladio forced a smile on his face. “It’s gonna be okay. We’ve had shorter times together, and we’ll have longer too. I’ll make sure we see each other again soon.” Prompto’s brows furrowed, and gods he looked so precious even when he was upset. 

The rest of the early noon was spent getting Gladio’s things together and figuring out which car he’d be renting from Cid. They thanked him for everything he had done, and he let them know that it was nothing apart from his job. 

Gladio looked up at the sky and saw dark clouds that looked like they could be carrying rain —a rarity out there in the desert. The wind had picked up around them, sending dust flying over their boots and clinging to their pants. There was a sharp scent in the air, and Gladio could tell from all his time in the wilderness that it wasn’t just going to rain. It was going to pour. Fitting weather to match their moods.  They loaded up the vehicle, and Gladio turned around to face Cor and Prompto for the last time in a while. 

“This is happening pretty suddenly, huh?” 

“It can’t be helped,” Cor said solemnly. “If Monica was asking for him personally then it must be dire, especially if Iris had already been called.” 

Two arms wrapped around his shoulders, and Gladio leaned into Prompto’s hug, returning it even tighter. He pulled back just a bit so he could kiss Prompto, releasing him despite how much he didn’t want to. It was moving so fast, and Gladio wished he could have just one more day there. “I’ll leave him to you then,” he said to Cor, and the marshal nodded in agreement even as Prompto coughed unsubtly at the mention of him. 

“Until we meet again,” Gladio uttered, placing a hand over his chest. 

They copied his motion and his words, and with one last goodbye, Amicitia left them. As he pulled away from the garage he adjusted the rearview mirror, and watched Prompto and Cor until they were no longer visible. There was nothing that could be done or said, so he just kept driving. 

They would see each other again, he’d make damn sure of it. 

**Author's Note:**

> okay so first off, huge thank you to [aie](https://archiveofourown.org/users/glamourtentia) for beta'ing my fic despite not knowing much abt ffxv, and for all the writing hours MONTHS ago when i started this fic. 
> 
> sorry it's been so long tho! im workin 2 jobs now and im just lazy but expect from detroit: become human fics from me in the future!!
> 
> i have a [twitter](https://twitter.com/maxalackin) and a [tumblr](http://chainuser.tumblr.com/) so u can follow those if u want
> 
> thank u guys so much for reading!! <3


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